The Legend of the Twilight Princess Book 1 Rewrite
by DragonRing
Summary: The agelong peace in the southern provinces of Hyrule is shattered; in every village, children are ruthlessly captured by raiding monsters and nightmarish beasts. All that is left is a sinking veil of Twilight imbued with fear and despair. But while the land crumbles beneath a mantle of shadow, one young man sets off on a perilous journey in search for the missing children.
1. Prologue

**_Author's note:_**_ This is a **rewrite** of my original story **The Legend of the Twilight Princess**. Minor and major changes have been made to it to improve the flow of the story and get rid of language-related mishaps on my part, but it is not perfect. If you have any further suggestions and/or constructive critique for me, do not hesitate to review or message me. Any help is very much appreciated._

_Sincerely, _

_DR_

**Prologue – Ordon Village**

Ordon. If ever he had been looking for paradise, he would have shouted out, "By the Goddesses, I've found it!"

The traveller – it was not yet known if he was merchant, musician, storyteller, or keen adventurer – who stepped out of the vast forest of the Faron Province and let his gaze wander over the little blue rooftops and pumpkin patches, would have called it paradise without a second thought. The eight little houses scattered around a burbling river of crystal water, a simple dirt path, and small areas of high grass, were built out of the finest wood found in the neighbouring forest or even carved out of one of the large sequoia trees that grew particularly high and wide. They gave the foreign viewer an image of a perfect little community living like a big family through the seasons.

He began to walk along the road, following and crossing the river using a small wood bridge, and stopped in front of a large and wealthy looking house with a grey-blue tiled roof and a long porch that guided him to a double-doored entrance. But had he continued his ascent up the path he would have arrived at a gate, constructed only by four huge boughs that joined in the middle a good distance over his head like folded hands, with a set of proud horns displayed at the top. Further up the path, a faint bleating would have rung in his ears, the scent of grass, straw, horse, and goat would have ensnared in his nostrils and, had he been of the finer folk from Castle Town, would have made him crinkle his nose in disgust.

But the simple farmers and herders of Ordon Village had never cared about the effect their simple and rural life had on those from the northern lands. They greeted every visitor with the joviality and warmth of a close family member that would have let every traveller's ill thoughts dissipate in a matter of seconds, replaced by a huge smile and a mug of honey ale in their palm while the stout mayor of the small community welcomed them into his house and invited them to sit by his fireplace to listen to whatever news and stories the foreigner had to offer.

The leader would then guide his guest through the village, showing them around and presenting them his fellow denizens. This is what he would tell every arriving visitor with his booming, bellied voice: "Ah, my dear fellow, how nice it is to have you with us. It's so rare that we see a new face around here that I sometimes forget how to speak to strangers. Ah, may I introduce you to Rusl, the blacksmith of our humble village, and his wife Uli. Rusl! How was the hunt? You see, my friend, we had a tough winter last year and ran out of meat halfway through, so this year we have to go hunting more often if we do not want to eat cabbage stew all the time. But the harvest promises to be good this season, so we shouldn't be in much trouble. Here you see Jaggle's watermill, where we grind our corn from the field. If you're looking for our infamous Ordon goat cheese, we should pay Jaggle's wife Pergie a visit. I dare say she did a good job with the goat milk this year. Oh, and remind me to give you a jar of Hanch's fine honey before you leave, his bees were very enthusiastic this spring. His wife Sera owns the shop right here, if you're looking for food for your journey back and a little souvenir for the missus. Oh, and Fado here, he's our master goatherd…"

Mayor Bo's long and fervent discourses were renowned for their amount of detail – and length. His daughter Ilia, a happy girl of fifteen with hair as short as a boy's, usually stepped in after a few hours of touring the small but abundant village, showing the traveller into the mayor's house where a separate room had been furnished with spare beds.

The village was always happy to offer newcomers a good meal and shelter for the night, obtaining in return stories, music, or trading goods from the lands beyond the forest. Ordon's people, even if fond of visitors and eager to buy merchandise not found in the countryside, lived independently from Hyrule, the bigger land in the north. And happily so. They could sustain all their needs with goat breeding, hunting, farming, and collecting. But was there a resource they did not have, like ore for forging or wool for clothing, merchants like the traveller were happy to be engaged in vivid haggling contests over at Mayor Bo's big, grey-blue roofed house with its double doors and inviting porch.

Had anyone with a little farming experience stepped into the village and had looked at the houses, they would immediately have noticed the lone stable attached to a small, crooked building in the back, which belonged to Harold and Gertie. The latter was the weaver of the town in her mid-sixties, and her old, good-hearted husband Harold – being a farmer since he could walk – had over the years traded his rusty scythe with a sturdy walnut walking stick. The only four-legged farming help the village owned were the three donkeys that lived with them, their happy donkey-life filled with plough-pulling, the transporting of wheat sacks, wood, and vegetables, and loving petting from the hamlet's children.

Four there were, two only children and two brothers. Beth, about twelve now. Talo, eleven and stormy as a young boy could be, and his full-cheeked six-year-old, quiet but witty brother Malo. The fourth was the shy blonde-haired Colin, son of Rusl the blacksmith, who was silent and still lacked the courage to believe in himself. A fifth child was on the way in the smith's family and awaited in the following late spring with impatience and anticipation from the entire village.

The remaining inhabitants living their simple life as farmers were Moe and his sister Kila, son and daughter of Harold and Gertie. Both in their forties, they were the backbone of farming in Ordon, happy, working fellows who did most of the labour on the large field behind the ranch. It was the main source of crops as well as hay for the donkeys which the two siblings sowed and then reaped together each fall. The barn on the ranch, which served as stable for the goats, was also a storehouse for all the goods the assiduous farmers collected over the year. Mayor Bo's job was then to make sure each household had everything it needed, distributing the crop out to all his inhabitants equally and in response to every family's needs. Since the town counted just eighteen tenants in total, there had never been any problems with cheating or burglary. The townsfolk were a vigilant, clever, trusting group of people who helped and loved each other like family members. That was why Mayor Bo was so proud of his serene little village of Ordon.

"My dear mayor, you are indeed a lucky man with all these intelligent and hard-working people around you. Yet I have a little question to ask, out of simple curiosity."

The traveller – whom Mayor Bo had entertained with a long monologue about Ordon's self-sustaining prowess before leading him back to the front porch of his large house – scratched himself behind one of his long, pointy ears. It was this elegant pair of hearers that let him stand out from the rest of the villagers who had plain, round ears. He was a Hylian, not a Human like the townsfolk, a young book merchant coming from the lands beyond Ordon and the woods of Faron. It was a good three days' ride from the big city of Castle Town to the reclusive provinces of the south, and it was this fact that let travellers remain so rare in Ordon.

"Since my work is based mostly on that, I dare say that I am fairly chummy with numbers." he continued. "You said there were eighteen villagers here, yet as you led me around I counted only seventeen. Is there someone I haven't met yet?"

A smile crossed Bo's lips. "You impress me, my friend, you counted fairly right. Yes, I think there is someone you have yet to meet, but I have not seen him around here myself today. Oh, Rusl! Wait up, my friend. Do you have any idea where Link is?"

000


	2. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:** go to Youtube and type in Lunasa - Autumn Child. This is the song that inspired me to write this chapter all those years ago, and I still think it is a wonderful song. As for this chapter, I did not make too many changes other than rewriting a few narrative and descriptive parts as well as add and delete some scenes. I believe it is much better now, as it serves mainly to introduce Link's character, how he got to Ordon, and his few peculiarities (his mark, his living alone and apart, and his longing to learn more about his homeland)._

**Chapter 1**

There it was, nibbling contently at the few blades of grass beneath the tall beech. It was a beautiful animal with soft, reddish fur and small antlers reaching like forks out of its head. Its hooves were clean and glistened ever so slightly; it had crossed the spirit spring before heading back into the woods.

The hunter was crouched about twenty yards away with the wind blowing lightly into his smooth, beard-less face. It was a good place, nearly too good. Hopefully the deer did not move too quickly, or heard his belly growl with hunger. He licked his lips, brushing a stray strand of sand coloured hair behind one of his long, pointy ears. His deep blue eyes scanned the area, taking in every tree, every bush that could obstruct him. The path was clear. He perceived nothing but the scrunching teeth of the deer chewing the grass and the quickening pounds of his own heart.

His right hand clutched the longbow tightly, the left one reaching back to his quiver to retrieve a long arrow. The point had been freshly sharpened earlier that morning, gleaming in the autumn sun like a polished knife. He let the shaft glide into position between the handle of his bow and his right index finger, hooking it into the string. His eyes never left the deer during the whole, slow motion process. His left arm folded back, two fingers curved around the bowstring, the other helping in bending the wood to build up tension.

The shot was almost perfect. The moment he let his arrow fly, a bird chirped in the trees above and covered the soaring sound of metal, wood, and feathers. The deer did not react as the lethal weapon struck the animal's chest from the side and pierced the heart clean through. It was dead before it even hit the ground.

Closing his eyes, Link of Ordon stood up, stretched his taut muscles, and crouched beside the fallen deer. His eyes scanned the corpse silently, his look rooted on the slow trickle of blood that ever so gently ran down the animal's tawny fur. Sadness overcame him, as it always did when he took a life from Ordona's sacred forest. When the first crimson droplets tainted the grass, he laid a gentle hand on the deer's flank and slid the arrow out of its flesh.

''Forgive me, my friend,'' he said in a deep, low voice.

He watched his left palm half-buried in the thick winter pelt and slowly coiled his fingers inward, imagining vicious canine claws slice through the tender deer skin and the immense pain it would have caused the young animal. ''Better me than a mountain wolf,'' he added, and felt better about the kill.

He wiped the bloodied shaft clean in the grass and stuck it back into the quiver; arrows were valuable and expensive to make. Then he whistled a three-noted song that echoed around him and lost itself in the treetops. While he worked to tie the deer's legs together with a hemp rope, a loud, powerful neigh resounded in response to his call, followed by the stomping of large hooves.

Link just straightened when a horse came into view. It was a massive beast, its fur a striking red with a silvery white mane flying in the wind of its stormy arrival. It skidded to a halt right in front of Link and reared up, tossing its legs about dangerously above the much smaller youth's head.

Link did not even flinch. As soon as the horse touched down again, he stretched out a hand to patter its neck, smiling. ''Aren't you a fearsome one, Epona? Now stop being so fidgety and help me get this fellow back to Ordon.''

The mare immediately settled down, nudging her master playfully. Link let his fingers glide through her mane before kneeling down and heaving the deer's body onto her back. He then put a foot in the stirrup of her saddle and swung himself onto her. The reins were tied securely to the pommel to keep them from entangling in her legs while he let her roam free, but he left them untouched, instead leaning over her withers to whisper in her ear. ''Let's take the long way back, shall we? You lead the way.''

Animal and rider then set off at a relaxed pace, Link lying sprawled across her neckline to doze. His mare instinctively knew the way back to Ordon, and since it had been a long day for both of them he saw no need to press her forward. The sun was slowly making its way down towards the west, turning redder with every passing minute they strode along the path. He had noticed over the modest sixteen years he was wandering the world now that, in autumn, sunsets were always redder than usual, nearly bloody. They made the canopy of vividly coloured tree leaves shine and gleam like stained glass in a church, bathing the entire forest in ethereal light.

Link was soon stirred out of his light slumber by high-pitched screaming, and had the mare beneath him shifted nervously, he would have shot up in alarm and raced to whoever was in danger. But she kept on walking calmly, so he just straightened and rubbed his eyes.

''Link! Link! You're back!'' came a squealing, excited voice. ''There's a merchant and some musicians that came here while you were gone.''

Link smiled as little Talo came running towards him, followed closely by Beth.

''They say they come from Castle Town,'' the girl added, looking up dreamily. ''And they want to play music and tell us stories.''

''Sounds nice,'' Link answered as he slid off of Epona. He would have loved to listen to the travellers's stories, but he had not slept well the past few nights and wanted to go to bed early that evening.

''Shoo, children! Give the lad some space,'' the loud, friendly voice of the blacksmith resounded from the path leading down to the village.

Link was the only resident in the hamlet not living right in the centre. His house, carved into the trunk of a large oak with a ladder leading to his lofty door, was set apart from the rest of town by a hill through which a dirt path lead into main Ordon. No one had ever truly understood why the boy had chosen this tree so far from the village centre, located more in the adjoining forest than the Ordon plateau, but everyone respected his choice. After all, his childhood had not been easy, and what the young Hylian loved above all else was solitude; just being alone, undisturbed, to think.

''Sorry, Rusl!'' Talo called and ran off again with Beth in tow.

The smith smiled at them before stepping up to Link. ''Have you found it then? What a nice young male.''

''It took some time to find it, but it must have gotten hungry and stopped beneath the big beech,'' Link said as he unloaded the deer from his grazing mare. ''It was a lucky shot.''

The older man noticed the weary look on Link's face. ''Are you all right, son?''

The youth nodded immediately and wiped his tired expression away. ''Yeah, no worries. I'm just a bit tired, is all. I haven't slept well lately.''

''You're not worrying about the winter, now, are you?'' Rusl lifted a knowing brow.

''Not really. I think I just overworked myself a little these days. Don't worry, Rusl, I'm okay,'' Link cast him a bright smile that the smith could only return with a chuckle.

''All right then. Will you come to hear the musicians tonight? The merchant will also be there. He told me he is a bookseller and might have some books about Hyrule's history that might interest you.''

Link's eyes lit up immediately, and Rusl laughed. The youth had a particular fondness for books, especially when the topic was the land beyond the dense forest. Having never stepped into the country of his ancestors, Hyrule was a mystery to him. And whenever Link could lay his hands on a book about Hyrule and its history, he would spend all of his free time immersed in the letters until he had soaked up every last bit of lore and knowledge he could draw from the pages.

''Shall I tell them you're coming then?'' Rusl smiled.

Link nodded with a sigh. ''All right. But let me eat something first, I'm starving. And could you take the deer to Harold? It should be stored as quickly as possible.''

Nodding, Rusl loaded the game onto his broad shoulder and turned around just to grin at Link one final time. ''You did a great job today, Link. Mayor Bo will be pleased.''

Smiling, Link turned around to tend to his mare, as hungry as himself. Next to his modest home he had built a small stable just large enough for her to stand and lie in it. He had received his share of fresh hay from the field a few days ago and got to work filling Epona's empty trough. It wasn't much, but it would bring her through the winter. His friend was a tough breed, never bothered by the harsh snows and blizzards storming through their village during the cold season. She would be all right.

His own belly growled as he saw his mare dig into her meal, and he quickly made his way up his ladder and stepped into his tree house.

The fire he had set in his hearth that morning was now nothing but a glimmer of ash. The circular house was pleasantly warm, a nice contrast to the cooling weather outside. A pot of stew was hooked over the fireplace, still warm. Link stepped across his scarcely furnished home to take a wooden bowl from the shelf to his left. As he leaned over to fill it with a generous helping of stew, his head banged lightly against his assortment of forged knives hanging over the hearth – as it always did – causing them to clatter and swing. He did not mind as he sat down at his table with a sigh, digging into the warm meal happily.

While he ate, he let his look wander around the walls of his carved house. The fireplace, built like a clay brick hut so that his tree would not catch fire and aerated with a crooked chimney leading outside, stood against the far wall of his home, flanked to the left by the crockery shelf, his oven, and his firewood stock, and to the right by the messy table at which he sat. Last night, due to his inability to sleep, he had rummaged through the bookshelf to the right of the table for a mundane tale of politics that would make him sleepy. A discarded volume still lay on the ground further to the right next to the door and had been sent sliding back the moment he had entered. The wooden door, whenever he opened it too harshly, always left marks on the long chest against which it banged as he turned his gaze further to the right, where a pitchfork was attached to the wall right over a spare saddle and two buckets stored away on top of the long drawer. A cupboard with a pot of giant sage on top stood right next to a door-less frame which led to Link's basement, on its turn reached by a long ladder leading down into the bottom of the oak trunk. The doorframe's end marked the beginning of the crockery shelf and oven, and he looked at his meal again to resume quenching his hunger at the table.

It was soon getting dark outside, the birds eventually relapsing to silence to let the last crickets of autumn take over for the night. Link's head hit the open book he had traded with the empty bowl several times and soon remained lying on the pages. His belly nicely full with stew, it seemed he would likely sleep better that night.

A faint burning sensation on his left hand indicated that, no, it was not a dream and that, no, it would not leave him be.

Annoyed, he bolted up and scratched at the grey mark that was imprinted there, on the back of his hand. Its grey colouration was that of a birthmark, yet its shape was too perfect to be there by accident. Three triangles, two at the bottom and one towering over the others, were aligned so that, together, they formed a larger triangle. It arched with the curve of his hand and lately had begun to ache from time to time. Next to that, his nights had been filled with nightmares to wake up sweating and screaming. Sometimes dark and ominous, sometimes just scary and bloody, they haunted his precious hours of sleep for more than a week now.

No one knew where his curious mark came from. He had known it ever since the day he was old enough to realize that his body was not just composed of two legs to stumble over, two arms to catch him, a head he could bang against table rims and a hungry stomach that begged to be filled. Uli had once said its perfect shape indicated that it had to be a brand, even if the red scars of a branding iron were missing. And the symbol – known to everyone who had but scratched the surface of Hyrule's history – bore even more questions about why it would find itself atop a simple goat herd's hand. He had, however, long given up searching for an explanation concerning this quaint mark. Just like his own origin, the one behind the brand was a mystery to him and the other villagers with little chance of being revealed. And so they had all accepted it, and had turned to more important matters.

His home had just one window, far up near the treetop where his sleeping mattress lay on a wooden platform. A ladder went down to a second ledge where another bookshelf gave also storage to his spare clothes. As he heard a strange noise coming from the open window, he frowned and stepped up the two ladders to gaze out into the night.

The hill blocked his view on the main village, but from his position he could hear chatter and laughter sweeping up to his pointy ears. The musicians were apparently getting ready for the evening, for he could discern a pipe out of the other sounds coming from the hamlet.

He raced the ladders back down and reached two fingers into his hearth, smearing a layer of soot onto the grey mark before wriggling into a light cloak. If he did not hurry, he would be late. Damn those sleepless nights!

Epona snorted at him from under her shelter as he scrambled down the ladder. He smiled and let her out. She was too loyal to run off in some mindless freedom desire that could likely cost her her life. They were soul-partners, there for each other and taking care of one another. So of course, she would accompany him into the village to have some fun as well.

As Link and Epona crossed the entrance gate to Ordon, a large camp fire was burning high into the night sky near Jaggle's mill. All the villagers were settled down on tree trunks and rocks with the four children huddled together at the feet of one of the troubadours tuning a lute. Three other foreigners were preparing their instruments to get ready for the show.

''Link!'' Rusl called and stood up to greet him. ''We already thought you wouldn't come.''

''Sorry I'm late, I dozed off again,'' he apologized, tapping Epona's rear to make her join the villagers. She was as much a part of Ordon as the rest of them.

''Don't worry, we wouldn't have started without you. Ilia volunteered to get you if you had taken much longer,'' the blacksmith laughed. Link cast a cheeky grin at Ilia, his lifelong childhood friend lounging by the other youngsters, before sitting down next to her.

She nudged his shoulder with a chuckle. ''He's telling the story of the three Goddesses,'' she whispered and indicated the lute player sitting in front of the gaping children. Link smiled. It was his favourite story, the myth of how the three Golden Goddesses had created the world.

''Din, with her fiery body, caused bonfires, earthquakes, and thunderstorms to form our red earth,'' the musician chanted, picking up a stick from the ground to draw a perfect triangle in front of Talo's feet. ''Her Power is unmatched, and whoever dare challenge her shall feel her _wrath_.'' A collective gasp of awe arose among the children as the musician stared at them with eyes widened.

''Nayru poured her Wisdom onto the chaos and gave the spirit of law to the world. With her reign, everything fell into place and order.'' The bottom right tip of the shape birthed a second triangle that the man drew just beneath.

''And Farore, her Courage strengthening her, split her rich soul into all life forms that would live on Din's earth and uphold Nayru's law.'' A third triangle joined the other two in the dry soil, completing it.

''The three Goddesses, their labours complete, departed for the heavens where they are said to reside until this very day, watching over us, weaving our fates. The sacred triangles compose their mark, their virtues combined to a sign of perfect balance. It is known as the Triforce.''

Link stared at the rough drawing on the ground, absent-mindedly stroking his sooty hand.

The piper reached out to tap the man on the shoulder, nodding, and the story teller jerked up with a laugh.

''Are we ready? Fair enough. Let's play!'' he cried and brandished his lute, beginning with a quick tune, and the children sprang to their feet to join their parents on the tree trunks. His melodious voice followed the song as he spoke to them all.

''My dear friends! I must thank you all for your kind hospitality that my partners and my humble self are honoured with. So you shall hear, in return, the songs that resonate across all of Hyrule, from the deep waters of Lake Hylia to the vast desert in the west, echoing against the fiery walls of Death Mountain to come back to you, my dear friends, to your ears. May you sing, may you dance, we'll be happy to accompany you!''

The lute then intoned a fast rhythm, its musician glancing at his partners and shaking his head in the same pattern than his hand striking the strings. Then, the man with the pipes stepped it, followed by the violin, the drum and, at last, the small flute. Gertie and Harold got up with a little effort, but quicker than one would have put past them, and happily began to dance. Gertie yipped as her elderly husband slapped her rear, earning loud laughter from the others. Jaggle and Pergie joined them along with Moe and Kila and danced joyfully around the bonfire.

Link watched the dancers with a smile on his face. The smith beside him clapped his hands and howled whenever the musicians sped up and let the dancing Ordonians do the same. Soon, everyone was sweating profusely in effort and delight.

After the fourth rapid song the Ordonians plopped down tiredly onto their seats again, rocking and swaying along with the players as they intoned a slow, quiet tune.

Link sat leaning against Epona, who had lowered herself down behind him for a nap, him nipping occasionally at a mug of goat milk. He had pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to protect his body from the shrouding cold and had wrapped himself into the wool, gazing at the fire dreamily and listening to the calm music. A tap on his shoulder made him look up to find Mayor Bo sitting down next to him with a younger man in tow.

''Link, I'd like to introduce you to Valhansen, the merchant from Castle Town,'' the mayor said.

The traveller stretched out his hand in greeting, and Link took it as he returned his smile. ''Nice to meet you,'' he said.

''My pleasure, master Link. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance,'' the merchant said, shaking Link's hand vigorously. His Hylian bore the feudal accent of Castle Town royalty. ''The honourable mayor here told me you had a special interest in books. I own a print shop and a book store in Castle Town and am currently visiting all the villages in the southern provinces, for advertising, you see. Would you like to take a look at what I've got with me?''

''Yes, I'd love to,'' Link said, barely stopping himself from imitating the Hylian's accent. Valhansen retrieved a large bag from his shoulder.

''Let's have a look then…'' he said, kneeling down as he pulled out book after book from the satchel. Link took one of them in his hands. Blue leather with golden lettering glistened in the flickering light of the bonfire, saying _Races of Hyrule – Their Culture and their Stories_.

Another brown one read _The Ikana Legend – How a Prosperous Kingdom Turned Evil_. Link looked at it with narrowed eyes, opening it in silent interest. The grotesque portrait of a skeleton with blue, red, and white clothes smiled crookedly at him, making him clap the book shut again in fright.

''I would not recommend that one,'' Valhansen said, eyeing the volume. ''Dark story, that is, the legend of Ikana. It is mostly read by law students to learn about civil war and corruption. You might enjoy this one here more.''

He handed Link a small yellow tome with a tell-tale circular goat horn painted on the cover, and Link's eyes grew big. ''There is a book about goat herding?'' he asked.

''Yes, of course!'' the book seller laughed. ''And not only about herding. Where the race comes from, what its characteristics are, how to treat it right, and what to do with all the precious goods you can obtain from them. Did you know there are one hundred and sixteen different recipes for meals made with Ordon goat milk?''

Link grinned as he leafed through the book, marvelling at the beautiful ink-drawn pictures of his beloved goats. He had always been fond of animals.

As he set the book aside again, his look fell on another volume lying beneath the Ikana Legend. Green it was, looking old and used with what looked like a triangle imprinted on top of it. As Link pushed the other book aside, his blue eyes crossed a beautiful set of wings splayed around the triangle, which he noticed was not only one, but three golden triangles set together to form the big, perfect one. He felt his pulse quicken as he slowly reached for it, barely noticing Valhansen talking merrily about the goat book in the background.

His thumb grazed the crest carefully, brushing over the Triforce. He felt as if the symbol on his hand began to tickle, but not painfully, a fact that he took in with confusion. However, the little green book had caught his full attention, so he did not fully notice the reaction his curious birthmark was displaying at that moment.

_Hyrule Historia – The History of a Golden Kingdom _stood right beneath the flying crest in a foreign, curved script, very different from the Modern Hylian he had learned to read and write from Uli.

Next to him, the book seller had noticed Link's attention drift away from his talk, and he watched the Ordonian stroke the cover of the green leatherback as if lost in thoughts. ''Ah, that's a curious one. _Hyrule Historia – The History of a Golden Kingdom _it says. But it's all written in Ancient Hylian so I'm afraid you won't be able to learn much. That tongue is long not spoken any more, only read by scholars and historians who took the pains of learning it.''

Link looked up, trying to suppress the smirk that wanted to cross his lips. ''How much?''

''I'm sorry?'' Valhansen asked.

''How much for this one?'' Link repeated, indicating the old book.

The traveller looked between the volume and Link's determined expression. ''Well, since it's an antique much used and mostly impossible to read, I'd say about forty rupees. But for you, my friend, I'll make a special prize. Twenty-five rupees in cash, if you have them, and it's yours.''

Link gulped. Twenty-five rupees was a large sum for a modest ranch-hand with only his share of crop he helped to harvest all year. The few rupees he had found in the forest were barely enough to fill a small chest in his basement.

Yet he longed to learn more about his home town than what Rusl's few books could teach him. If this really was an antique, it must have lain in the hands of hundreds of Hylians already, each adding their little something to its yellowed pages and thus forming a collection of stories worth, to him, more than all the rupees in the world.

''Done,'' he said, shaking the merchant's hand. ''If you just wait here, I'll go get my rupee chest.''

''Oh, dear friend, you don't have to pay me right now! No need to rush, there's plenty of time,'' Valhansen laughed, pushing the book back as Link handed it to him. ''I know a beguiler when I see one, and you are definitely not, master Link. Just tell me one thing.''

Here he leaned forward, cocking one of his ears as if listening to a secret. ''How come that a young man such as you, from this small village, shows so much interest in this book? A book which not even I can properly read?''

Link smiled. ''Maybe I don't look like it, but I can read Ancient Hylian.''

Valhansen's eyes widened. ''You can? How come?''

Link nodded, still grinning. ''You see, life here is a lot of work, but in winter there isn't much to do. Since I live alone I have a lot of time to pass and so, out of interest – and a little boredom, I must confess – I just began to read one of these old books Rusl had brought from his time in Castle Town.''

''But who taught you to read Ancient Hylian?''

''No one,'' Link answered plainly. ''I saw the script and it just made sense, you know?''

The merchant sat still for a little while. ''You impress me, my friend. Really. Some of the scholars I know take ages to properly read that tongue.''

Link took the book in his hand and eyed it thoughtfully. ''Well, I don't really know how I learned it that quickly, it just sort of happened. I'm not sure if it has something to do with me being a Hylian.''

''I beg your pardon?''

Link remembered that he still wore his hood, so he lowered it to reveal his long, elegantly curved pointy ears. A set of tiny blue earrings pierced his lobes and jingled lightly with his every move, a gift he had received from a jeweller passing through when he had been younger.

''Oh, what a surprise! Now _that_ explains everything,'' Valhansen laughed, causing Link to cock his head in confusion.

''What do you mean?''

''Well, it explains your looks, mainly; the smooth, flawless shape and colour of your face, and those sparkling eyes of yours. Hylians are more tender in their looks than Humans, and not as roughly built. I wondered how it could be possible that a Human looked so… well, so _Hylian_ as you do. What a pleasant surprise indeed. But how did you end up in a Human village?''

At that, Link swallowed uncomfortably, letting his eyes dart around in search for the best explanation. He had known that this question would come eventually, but that it'd be posed like this, as if he had lived elsewhere before, he had not expected. ''I… I've always lived here. I've never known another life than the one here in Ordon.''

With a sigh of relief, he saw Bo turn around from his conversation with Rusl and hurry to his aid. ''Valhansen, my friend! Come and have a mug of ale with us!''

Before the merchant could retort, he was already grabbed by the sleeve and dragged to a set of tree-trunks across the fire where Hanch was busy operating the tap of an ale barrel. Link smiled to himself and sent a quiet thanks to the mayor. His childhood was a topic he did not like to talk about, especially not with strangers. Everyone in the village knew that, and helped him out whenever the need occurred.

The musicians were now getting ready to resume their performance, and the lute player began to speak. ''We'll play for you now, fellow villagers, a little song we like to call _Autumn Child_.''

His voice took on a weepy tone. ''It tells the story of an orphan born under a bleeding sun, left alone in the wilds…''

Link's eyes darted to the player and fixed him intently, until after a quick pause, the man continued happily. ''… who is then taken in by a flock of fairies who teach him how to dance!''

The villagers laughed out before snuggling closer to listen to the musician.

A quiet tune, soft and beautiful, rang out of the strings he picked with the point of his fingers, so quickly yet playing so calm a melody that Link could not comprehend how this was possible. Everyone around the fire was silent, listening and rocking along to the slow rhythm and quick notes as the lute led them along.

Link was already lost in thoughts while he listened to the musician with blank eyes, but as his favourite instrument, a large transverse pipe known as a Hylian flute, joined in and sang in choir with the lute, he was overrun by a flood of images, thoughts, dreams, and feelings. His mind rocked along with the song, led by the notes so serene and delicate until he pictured – behind closed eyes – the dark shadows of a forest and the bleeding autumn sun tainting the sky with a deep crimson.

_A child laid there, on a tree trunk, wrapped in a dirty blanket that only scarcely protected it from the cold. The baby was shivering, too weak to cry, barely holding on to the life it had been given a few hours earlier. The protector spirit of the forest wept, a lament unheard by Humans yet faintly echoing in the tiny, pointed ears of the newborn. _

_Then, a man arrived at the spring, a longbow in hand. He was fairly young, twenty perhaps, with the traces of a full beard already forming at his chin. He saw the bundle, ran over to it, and took it into his strong arms. _

_In the village, his fiancée waited for him with dread on her features. Had her soon-to-be husband found enough game to bring them through the winter?_

_The sound of the opening door let her turn around, and in came her sweetheart with no dead rabbit or partridge, but a bundle holding the smallest child she had ever seen. As she uncovered it carefully, a piece of torn birch bark slid out of the cloth with just one word scratched into it. Her betrothed nodded, indicating the scrap of bark, and they both hugged the baby closely. _

_Time passed, and the little boy grew up under the protection of his surrogate parents. He was quiet, clever, and extremely curious, asking his father figure about the forest and the land beyond. _

_When he was six, another child came into his life. His parents seemed to treat the newborn differently, even if the foundling was never quite capable of discerning what divergence there was. And while his ears grew long and cuspid, his brother's remained round like those of his parents._

_Five years passed too quickly, and a storm formed inside the little boy. When his surrogate parents at last told him, much too late, he was broken. He was angry. _

Link clenched his fists as the melody became sombre. The piper had joined in, humming a single minor note with his instrument while the violin accompanied the flute.

_He ran away. There was a tree just outside the village that gave him shelter and comfort whenever he climbed up its dense branches and hid in them. This was where he wanted to stay._

The lute changed the chord again, rendering the tune more hopeful.

_Two seasons the building lasted. His saviour parents and his little brother helped him where they could, carving the foundations of his new life into the massive tree. This was where he knew he belonged, alone as he was, never knowing the truth of his origins. _

_One day, he had found that little scrap of birch bark, wrapped in the cloth so dear to him that he kept it locked in his basement next to his rupee chest. And on it was the only thing his true parents had left him._

_A name. _

Suddenly the pipes, loud and squeaky, drove Link out of his thoughts. They had intoned a quicker tune, more powerful and entertaining than the first, letting the villagers around him howl and stand up to dance along. Ilia saw him sitting there, looking dazed, and quickly grabbed his hands to pull him with her to the other dancing people. Link loved it when she understood him. She always knew how he felt, for she could discern his expressions better than anyone else.

He grinned as he danced with her. He loved it when she laughed.

000


	3. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:** this is where things start to get thrown into the air, juggled, and caught or dropped. I took a large broom and swept away pretty much everything that went into (waaaay) too much detail. In other words, I heeded Stephen King's advice and **killed my darlings**. Cleaned things up, made minor changes, added a few anchor points for plot twists, and got info out of the way to move on with the story. Also you will maybe notice, especially near the end, Link being a little more sensitive about being treating like a child, and displaying on more than one occasion a premature sense of pride that gets him into trouble. After re-reading the draft novel, I shuddered at all the scenes I wrote where Link succeeded in **everything** he did, was praised for his skills and actions and treated already like a hero. That is **not** realistic. He is a kid, he makes mistakes, and when he disobeys he gets scolded. I'm now focusing more on his inexperience than his perfection, and I think it makes him a bit more __believable __and __lovable. Tell me what you think of it. _

**Chapter 2**

The forest was not right, Link thought. Above his head, a magpie cackled mischievously. The forest was not right. Beneath him, the leaves of last fall slowly decayed away to join their trees once more. The forest was not right. It seemed so silent, so devoid of life. It was definitely not right.

''You're quiet,'' Rusl's deep voice came from behind a tree where he was busy collecting wood. ''What's on your mind?''

''I think something is wrong with the forest,'' Link answered.

The blacksmith came forth with his arms full of sticks and branches. ''What makes you think that?'' With a huff he tossed the wood beside Link who was busy tying more into bundles. Epona stood grazing a little distance away, silent as well.

''I don't know. It's very quiet for spring.''

''Winter is just over, and nature is still asleep,'' Rusl assured with a smile. ''Don't worry, it'll be back to normal in a few days when it finally gets warmer. Tie these up as well, please, I'll just go and check my trap. Won't be long.''

Even if spring had just started, Link felt as if the wintry numbness of the trees, plants, and animals had not left as it usually did. Maybe he was suffering the long absence of fresh sunlight for too long now, or he was just paranoid. But spring like he knew it – especially in its early days – felt like a relief when it came, like a deep breath of life the forest took in as the time came for it to bloom anew. He had not felt this inhale, even though it was more than time. For him it was as if the woods lacked the courage to sprout, afraid of the cold of winter returning like a vengeful spirit to snuff out all of their early blooms. At least that was what he would have called it.

''Epona,'' he called and gestured to her. The horse let herself plummet to the moist earth, her back reaching to his middle. Lost in thoughts with a light frown stuck on his forehead, Link worked to fasten the four fat bundles to her saddle. Quicker than he liked, they were safely attached to its leather. Now he would have nothing else to do but wait for Rusl to come back. With a deep sigh, he sat leaning against Epona's belly. She turned her head towards him and nudged his cheek. He nudged back with a smile.

''Yeah, I love you too, girl,'' he said.

He looked around, trying to discern the cheerful warble of birdsong, but no sound rang in his ears except the chilly wind stirring the bare branches above his head. There _was _something amiss in Faron Woods, whatever his surrogate father said. He just knew it.

His look rooted on the ground in front of him, at the foot of a tree. There seemed to be a small depression in the earth, a footprint from an animal he presumed. Stirred by the thought that maybe a few had passed by despite the gloom that had befallen the forest, he stood up and walked over to the tree. Epona straightened as well but turned her head as other steps approached through the coppice. Link did not turn to see the smith return empty-handed; his attention was fixed on his find.

''There was nothing in it. We'll have to live another few days from oat soup and dried meat I'm afraid. What are you doing down there?''

The youth stood up, looking at Rusl while pointing to the ground. ''Have you ever seen such a footprint before? I certainly have not.''

His voice was grave. Rusl frowned as he bent over to have a look. Link, while not a master at it, knew much more about animal footprints than the blacksmith, and the tone in his last reply seemed to alert the older man.

The print was small, long in shape and rather thin. While resembling a child's foot clad in leather shoes, it was too deep to have been left by any of the forest children. And Link was certain it was not a monkey's.

''That's very odd,'' Rusl answered. ''It's not an animal's, but its not human either. How fresh is it?''

''I'd say about a day old. It passed by probably yesterday afternoon, when the sun had thawed the mud here. The night frost has preserved the prints even beneath the leaves.''

The blacksmith massaged his chin, nodding absent-mindedly. ''Hmm. If it's about a day old then there's no chance we might catch up with it. But these prints do look familiar to me.''

''You saw one of those things before?'' Link asked.

His father figure nodded slowly. ''Years ago. A small group of these monsters invaded Ordon little after you came to us, and after we drove them back footprints like these were scattered all over the place. The creatures were short but strong, wielding something that resembled an axe or a rake made of wood. What was strange though, I remember that they were blue.''

''Blue?'' Link raised an eyebrow. ''What kind of creature is blue?''

''I can't remember its name, but I do remember that they were nasty creatures. And dangerous for the other villagers. We should go back immediately and inform Bo about what we found today, he'll know what to do.''

Link nodded, feeling nervous as well as oddly excited. He had never seen a monster bigger than the spiders occasionally scrambling up his home's ladder in search for a place to nest. Rusl, being a blacksmith as well as a swordsman, had schooled Link in the art of swordplay to protect himself against such vermin, but his modest skills had rusted in a little over the winter. He made a mental note to take his blunt wooden training sword and his longbow with him from now on.

Together with Epona in tow they made their way back to Ordon. The sun, even if not visible through the grey, clouded sky, began to set behind the southern hills of Ordona Province and bathed the woods around them in a sombre twilight. The two men soon had to light their lanterns, the strong yellow light giving them enough reassurance that, after a while, they began talking quietly. They knew that no creatures of the night would approach fire.

''You know, I always feel a strange sadness as dusk falls,'' Rusl said quietly. ''My father once told me that this is the only time of day that we can feel the lingering regrets of the spirits which have left our world.''

Link looked at his surrogate father, staying silent.

''This is the time of day when our world intersects with theirs. We feel peaceful, yet a little sad, at least that's what I feel. I believe that's how the spirits of the dead feel too. They are at peace, but their regrets from their time of life make us feel the loss. And loss, together with loneliness, is something we feel sad about. Sometimes it causes nightmares, sometimes sleeplessness, even illness–''

''Neither loss nor loneliness have anything to do with it,'' Link cut him off, discerning all too well his father figure's subtle but clear allusion to Link's own well-being – or supposed lack thereof. ''Besides, my nightmares have gotten better already, and I sleep much easier too. I feel perfectly fine.''

Rusl sighed and looked at his adoptive son with worry in his eyes. ''But are you truly happy?''

The question hung between them a moment too long before Link replied. ''Of course I am.''

''You are very devoted to your work on the ranch, you help wherever you can, and you never want anyone to worry about you. I can see what a fine young man you're becoming, and I couldn't be a prouder father. But all the books in the world will never give you what you're truly after: new things to see, places to visit. Adventure.''

Link felt his cheeks redden. ''I am happy with what I have here. Ordon is my home. I would never want to live anywhere else.''

''Who says you'd have to live elsewhere?''

Rusl's knowingly raised eyebrow made Link grin warily. ''Do you have something in mind?''

''As a matter of fact, I do. You surely remember that good fellow Valhansen from Hyrule, right?''

''Of course, I bought a book from him…'' Link answered, wincing. He had been foolish to think his obsession with Hyrulean books – and the reason for him being so interested in them – would go unnoticed forever.

''Well, besides books he was also carrying an official invitation from none other than the king personally. The royal family summons a representative from all people of Hyrule to attend the Ceremony of Peace. In this ceremony, each delegate is to present a token of loyalty to the king. Even though Mayor Bo elected me as representative, I believe that you should go in my stead.''

The young Hylian's chin dropped. ''Me? But I just turned sixteen last fall, and I'm … a Hylian.''

''And is it written anywhere that a Hylian shan't represent a group of sturdy Human farmers? You are young, yes, but you're mature far beyond your years, and that's what truly matters. So, what do you say?''

''I… I need to think about it first.''

Yet inside, Link was quaking with excitement.

This was it, his chance to lay his eyes upon the largest and wealthiest kingdom in the world, to set foot on those grassy plains and steep mountains and river shores at last. The history of the Goddesses was written on that very Hylian soil. Wars, peace treaties, the rise and fall of kings, all had come to pass in those vast lands full to the brim with wonders, mysteries, tales, and songs. How many ink drawings had he studied with his nose pressed to the pages to make sure he missed none of the minuscule details? Pictures of stone houses, monuments, temples, citadels, churches and – the prize of all – the behemothian castle of the land's capital. How was it even possible for all those stone towers to reach so high, look so magnificent, and stand a storm when a deep-rooted tree fell? How was it possible for all those stones to fit together perfectly and stay together without falling apart?

''Link?'' Rusl cut through his musings with a chuckle.

''Of course I'll go!''

0

Mayor Bo listened silently to Rusl's report in his large clay house, twirling his broad moustache thoughtfully. The three of them seated at the leader's table, Link looked between the two men and wondered what was going on in their heads.

Was a bokoblin really that dangerous? According to the print he had seen, it must be a little shorter than himself, otherwise its small feet would have been unable to carry it. Perhaps alone it was less threatening than in a group. He felt a twinge of fear about returning to his reclusive home, so near to the forest. If ever he was attacked, he would not be able to call for help quickly enough. No one would hear him.

But Epona needed protection too, and if push came to shove he would be able to scare off any intruders. Rusl had not taught him the art of swordsmanship just for running away.

''We should immediately close all the gates and tell the children to stay away from the forest." Bo said after some thinking. "If really there are bokoblins in those trees I don't want any trouble with them. Rusl, how many swords do you have?''

''I made one for every man capable of fighting. It's nothing fancy, but strong enough to withstand a few tough blows.'' As Link turned to him in surprise, Rusl smiled. ''You've got one as well, my boy.''

''Well done, Rusl,'' Bo said. ''I'll assemble the men while you fetch the swords to distribute them.''

The stout man was about to stand up, but Rusl held up a hand. ''Mayor, may I have another word? There is something Link and I wanted to discuss with you.''

Pride clearly discernible in his voice, he explained Link's accordance with being Ordon's representative. Bo eyed the two men sitting in front of him closely, eventually looking Link over as if to judge if he was fit for the job. ''And what do you think about it, my lad?'' he asked.

''It would be my greatest honour, sir,'' the Hylian answered while bowing his head. ''I would love to see Hyrule for real instead of just in books and bring to Castle Town whatever needs delivery.''

''You would have to see the king and swear allegiance and support. That in front of hundreds of people. Do you think you can manage that?''

Link swallowed uneasily at the thought of all those people watching him, and only him. He had never been fond of large crowds. The inhabitants of Ordon, when assembled, where enough to make him feel uncomfortable. ''I'll do my best, Mayor.''

0

''Is thaur gonnae be a barnie?'' Fado the rancher asked, his words fearful and more heavily accented with Ordonian patois than usual, showing how nervous he was. He held his plain sword awkwardly away from him as if it were a venomous serpent, looking up at Mayor Bo who stood on the porch of Rusl's small house.

''No, Fado, at least I hope not,'' Bo answered and addressed the villagers assembled before him. ''These swords are for your protection only.''

''Mayor, what about th' bairns?'' Jaggle asked, holding his wife close to himself and the new sword in the other hand. ''Ah dornt want them runnin' off into th' forest an' get attacked.''

''You're quite right, Jaggle. Tell them explicitly to stay away from the forest. And I task Link to keep an eye on them since his house is closest to the woods. Now get some sleep, everyone, and remember to lock your doors.''

The adults nodded and returned to their homes, whispering worriedly among themselves. Link did not turn immediately; he was busy eyeing his new sabre. It was very rushed and looked rather weak, but it would do. He had never held a real iron sword in his hands, and it made him feel dizzy with pride and responsibility.

''I had to do yours in a rush since I thought you weren't quite ready for a real one,'' Rusl said as he stepped up to him, his wife Uli close by. ''But it should do pretty well, if you handle it carefully.''

''I will,'' Link answered.

''Listen, why don't you stay at home with us tonight?'' Uli asked suddenly. ''We'll tell Colin to make some room, and I would sleep much better knowing you're not out there on your own.''

Link smiled but shook his head. ''That's nice of you, Uli, but I prefer to stay with Epona. Besides, we locked the gate on our way back.''

''That gate may be sturdy but it has been broken down before,'' Rusl came to her defence. Clearly he had been in conversation with his wife before. ''We just don't want you to get hurt.''

''I'm not a child any more, Rusl. I can look after myself.'' Link perceived the foreign sensation of anger creep into him, urging him to shout at them both, to make them stop treating him like a helpless child. But he suppressed it quickly with a frown. He had vowed to himself all those years ago that he would never shout at them again.

''Good night,'' he said instead, smiling. ''Thanks for the sword and the talk earlier, Rusl. It was nice.''

He could feel their lingering gazes at the back of his neck like an annoying fly, but he walked up the path and out of the village without turning one last time.

In his tree house, he leaned against the door with his new sword in his hands, feeling sullen. Rusl's and Uli's concern for him had never quite waned in the four years Link now lived apart from everyone, and they were not the only ones. Link cherished solitude just as much as he liked spending time with the other villagers, a trait that was often met with confusion, sometimes even sympathetic attempts to include him in activities he would normally have shunned as if trying to cure him of that quaint ailment they called loneliness. He never said anything, for he knew they only cared about him, just as they had ever since he was a baby plucked from the cold grasp of the forest and welcomed into their warm midst. His thankfulness had forever prompted him to try and be a part of them, a member of their large family.

But he knew he did not belong with them, not truly. He had been a foreigner ever since he entered Ordon for the first time in Rusl's arms, and despite their rigorous attempts to make him feel like an Ordonian, he could not hide the fact that he showed a fervent interest in Hyrule and its many wonders. Only Rusl seemed to truly understand Link's obsession – having lived in Castle Town for a few years before returning to Ordon and marrying Uli, many years ago – and had supplied him with history books and tales of the country since Link's early childhood. He felt a new surge of thankfulness overcome him for the blacksmith and his proposition to travel to Castle Town in his stead. Four weeks from now, Bo had said, in the middle of spring, and he would be off.

How he hoped that this time passed quickly.

He took his wooden training sword from its nail and out of the makeshift sheath, replacing it with the metal sabre. Full with pride he held it in his hands, taking in every detail, every curve and scratch on the blade and hilt his eager eyes could find; strong feral iron, sharpened to cut, and plain dark wood for a handle with a simple leather strap wound around it for a better grip. Nothing special, nothing fancy. But he loved it.

As he was about to climb up his two ladders to his bed, he halted in mid-motion. He was not in the mood for sleep, and instead made his way to the bookshelf beneath the first platform. Not the volumes caught his attention tonight, but a long wooden object lying on top of the uppermost shelf. He took it carefully in his hands, brushing a thumb over the pattern engraved into it, and walked back to his fireplace where he sat down on a rug.

The staff made of dark wood had been crafted just for him; it was the most beautiful gift Rusl had ever made him. Link did not have an accurate birthday, being a foundling, and so the villagers had taken the first day of autumn – when the leaves had already turned colourful and the sun was bleeding – to celebrate his arrival in Ordon. Never had he wanted a big celebration made out of that day, so he rarely took presents willingly. This one, however, had been too wonderful and unexpected to accept self-consciously. He would never forget the amused look on Rusl's face as he had presented him the object for his ten years. Link had been so astounded that, for a long time, he had just held it in his tiny hands like a holy, fragile artefact, and had stared at it with his blue sparkles wide in disbelief.

Link smiled at the memories, gazing into the crackling fire while he put the flute to his lips. It was a Hylian flute, his favourite instrument, played sideways and emitting an airy sound that filled him with longing for his home country. He had built up a small collection of Hylian songs gathered, over the years, from travelling musicians willing to share and teach them. This was what he did now, playing a soft tune to relax his reeling thoughts. The little melody he played with trained fingers came out of his instrument and swept up his high house, out of the small window and into the dense woods of Faron.

Suddenly he paused, his brow furrowing. There was a feeling in his bones he could not quite put words to, like a cold blow of wind exposing his vulnerable body to all the threats of the world. He remembered that strangeness of the woods earlier, and how it now seemed amplified to the point of creeping up to him, ready to strike. Sharply he turned around, looking at the sabre hanging next to his door. Its presence reassured him, yet it did not quell his fear entirely. He felt observed, even through the thick walls of his safe home. As he opened the door and peered outside, however, he perceived nothing but the cool wind rushing through the trees above and Epona's quiet snort as she greeted him.

He returned to the hearth and resumed his tune, seeking comfort in the notes twanging around his ears. This settled him down again and made him completely forget the instinct that had surfaced from the deepest, most primitive reaches of his mind.

0

Further into the dark, not far away from the first house of Ordon where the lantern burnt long that night, a lone creature heard the song restarting from within the tree house. Its breaths were raspy, drops of saliva trickling from its sharply teethed maw onto the blue skin of its wrinkled body. The white locks of its hair, bound to a ponytail, quaked as it scrambled away on its too short legs. A low rumbling sound emanated from its throat, high-pitched and beastly. Its small green eyes glistened with malice…

What a loot this would be!

0

Dawn came sluggishly in the early hours of spring, dousing the forest in a torrent of orange light. A knock on Link's door broke through the blood-curling screams of his nightmares and let him jerk up with a groan. He found himself rolled up on one of his carpets on the ground floor, his head draped over a stray pillow. The green history book he had been reading deep into the night lay open next to him.

''Link?'' Ilia's voice rang through the door, not waiting for him to respond as she was already stepping inside. Link picked himself up, trying to look fresher than he felt. He knew that she would have laughed at his state of disarray were it not for the look of deep concern on her face.

''Sorry to wake you, I had to be sure you were all right.''

''Why? What's wrong?''

Instead of giving a reply, she led him down to the village centre, giving him barely time to straighten his baggy brown pants and white, sleeveless shirt. All of Ordon's inhabitants had gathered around the mayor's house, their leader talking vividly with the driver of a chariot that had been badly damaged by the look of its splintered sides.

''What do you mean, they took most of it?'' Mayor Bo asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. ''Is this truly all the iron you have left?''

''I'm afraid so, Bo,'' the cart driver said. Link knew him as Egwin, the trader who came to Ordona Province every month and supplied the southern blacksmiths with iron rods and ingots. As he glanced at the wagon, however, hardly any wares were left. ''They just came out of nowhere and grabbed handfuls of it right out of the cart. Were it not for Flinn, they'd have cut me up like a steak for dinner.''

A second man, clad in a simple brown tunic with a fur cloak and leather boots, stepped forward and addressed the mayor quietly. Unlike the cart driver, he was armed, a fine steel sword and longbow strapped to his back and a tall shield emblazoned with the painted image of a rupee resting upright on the ground before him. He was a ranger from Palaguard, the northernmost town in Faron Province that marked the threshold of the forest to the vast land of Hyrule. Being a large trading centre where the southern villages took their goods to then be delivered to the Castle Town market, it was the farthest Link had been from Ordon and closest to Hyrule. But the forest still enshrouded this larger town, making a quick glimpse at South Hyrule Field ask for another few hours of travelling.

''A strange darkness has befallen Faron Woods,'' he said to the mayor. ''Don't let your kids run around in there, and you should dispense patrols at night. I'll let you know when the danger is over.''

''Thanks, Flinn. Your help is very much appreciated,'' Mayor Bo answered. Ilia left Link's side and walked to her father, touching his thick arm reassuringly. Link watched the newcomers depart out of Ordon and take the Southern Road towards Ordonafawn.

''What was that all about?'' he asked Rusl who stood next to Uli and Colin, watching the cart disappear with arms folded. The blacksmith had his sword strapped over his right shoulder, and Link reminded himself he should do likewise.

''A group of bokoblins attacked their cart last night, about two miles north of here near the temple,'' Rusl answered.

Link frowned. It was the fourth incident they had learned of ever since coming across the footprints in the forest two weeks ago. The quaint blue monsters shunned human settlements but had begun to cluster around the main roads, and attacks like these seemed to become more frequent. Yet despite the sightings and assaults happening so close, he had not yet caught a glimpse of them around Ordon.

After the chariot had disappeared behind the first turn, Bo addressed the waiting villagers around him.

''This does it, my friends, it can't go on for much longer. We need to know what is going on in Faron Woods so that we can make adequate preparations.''

''I propose a reconnaissance tour,'' Rusl said. ''With your consent, Mayor, I shall take as many men as are willing to assess the state of the forest.'' Many heads around him nodded their approval, and Link felt his heart beat faster with excitement.

An hour was all it took to make preparations. Gathered at the main gate leading into the forest, the men armed with everything – from sickles to axes – that could be used as weapons stood listening to Bo's instructions. Link stood among them, his bow and sword strapped over his shoulder as well as a knife at his belt. He had been relived of his herding duties for the day, much to his satisfaction. A trek through the forest searching for troublemakers sounded much more interesting than lounging in the grass all day watching goats.

''Good luck, and may the Goddesses bear you on your way,'' Bo said and stood by the women to watch them leave. Link saw Ilia give him an apprehensive look which she quickly hid as he smiled at her. She stretched out her tongue instead, and waved goodbye.

The other men's voices soon filled the tranquil air of the forest as they chatted, and Jaggle even intoned a merry farmer's song. Rusl and Link smiled at each other while they listened to the men croon about the reaping of pumpkins, herding of goats, and the looks of pretty farm girls.

One of Link's favourite spots came into view where the small forest path merged with the large dirt road leading straight through Faron. On its verge stood an old pole with six signs nailed to it. The three pointing in the opposite direction bore the names of the major southern villages, Ordon, Ordonafawn, and Timberfell.

The sister village of his native hamlet, Ordonafawn, was an even smaller community of farmers and goat breeders, encircled by a garden of hills – low and steep alike – and had gotten its name from the unusual tradition of bringing up only newborn goats before selling them to the kingdom. Thanks to the mountains around it, the village counted a number of caverns that could be heated in winter, allowing the baby goats to pass safely through a mordant cold. Ordon itself brought their fawns to the mountain village for a cosy winter in exchange for grain and provisions. Thus, the relation between the two communities was a close brotherhood woven together by the tradition of breeding the finest goats in the land.

Far to the east, lost in the middle of the mighty trees of Faron, laid the village of Timberfell. In this idyllic place, the houses were numerous and entirely out of wood, built pursuant to a life-long habit of living in a dense forest right into the trees themselves. Tree-houses like those in Timberfell could not be found elsewhere, and the modest home Link had carved into his own tree was no comparison to these wonders of craftsmanship. Thanks the copious breadth of the Faronian trees, visitors would set their eyes on structures that seemed to meld with the trunk; walls curved and coated with bark, roofs of cultivated branches like a treetop themselves, it was hard to distinguish which part belonged to the tree and which part was with nails attached to it. Had it not been for the rustling human activity warbling like birds in the crowns and walking up and down rope bridges suspended between the lofty homes, one could have passed right underneath Timberfell without noticing what they missed.

The workers of the wooden town were master treefellers, carpenters, carvers, and raft makers. Their pontoons, though small in shape, carried every possible outcome of a wooden branch, plank or trunk one could think of. Timberfell's traders commonly set off on the elaborate barges along the Ordona Runnel to join Faron River, their holds stacked with crates of merchandise. On the larger current they would float for several days until reaching the largest water body of Hyrule: Lake Hylia.

Link had been to Timberfell once, and it was from there that the idea of a tree-house had even occurred to him. He smiled as he remembered talking to one of the hairy treefellers, so intimidated by the man's gruff voice that his ears had flattened to his head. They were the largest, furriest, and friendliest human beings he had ever met in Faron.

''Rusl, we should go to Timberfell again one day, and see how they're doing,'' Link told his father figure.

''I wonder if Dan and his wife are still on the tree plantations,'' Rusl answered with a nod. ''I remember they wanted to open they own workshop to make instruments. Hah, do you think they'll ask me to forge strings for their lutes and violins? I hope not, by Farore, it is a tedious business.''

As Link looked back to the wry signpost, he read the three others pointing north. The Southern Road, leading straight ahead, would have taken them in a matter of days to Palaguard, but if one stopped by the bridge crossing the river, they'd see a sign saying _Bando_ turn left as if either entering the woods or following the stream. In fact, it was a ship at which the dart pointed, a large merchant vessel docked at a store house. _Red Lion_ was painted in gold on its crimson side, and the bargee, clad in a red sailor's tunic, would cry exactly at two hours past sunrise: ''Aaaall abooooard! The Red Lion is setting saaaaiiil for Bandooo!'' Then some stray passengers would sprint up the plank, the large rope would be lifted from its resting place, and the proud vessel would claw off the shore, packed with grain sacks, vegetable barrels, fruit baskets, and all the sundries missing in a town built on the surface of a large river.

Bando was the town of the pile dwellers. Stringing along the shore on spindly poles sticking out of the water, many-legged homes seemed to wade awkwardly in the sand like storks searching for a place to settle down. Humans inhabited those stilt houses and made their chimneys smoke, their slicers sing on long branches to make harpoons, and forever worked to find new uses for the town's commonest resource; fish was everywhere, in the water, on the shore in baskets, on the hooks of the children's fishing rods, in the kitchens, in the pots, and even above the doors. In Bando, it brought luck to have a tooth of a Hylian loach attached to a piece of leather to the front door, as it was said to keep the malignant spirits of the night at bay. The Hylian loach was a very rare fish, fabled for its extensive size and the particular challenge it presented to catch. The chieftains of Bando had passed the teeth down from generation to generation, distributing them to newcomers or children maturing to adults.

_They are lucky a Hylian loach had that many teeth,_ Link thought.

The last sign was the one that let his heart clench with longing whenever he saw it.

''Stay alert, son,'' Rusl said and made Link snap his head back to the road, but then his voice became cordial. ''Don't worry, only two weeks to hold on, and you'll see your precious Hyrule.''

They soon passed the first Faronian Giants that could measure over a hundred yards in height, and become so large that an entire temple could find space in their width. That, Link knew, was the case of the Forest Temple, safe haven to the monkeys that protected the forest and the invaluable treasure said to slumber within those thick walls. No one knew what it was, this arcane artefact, but many speculations had already been made by adventurers and scholars, one more absurd than the next. Link, however, felt no inclination to try and find the entrance to the deeper chambers of the temple. The monkeys were a friendly but vigilant folk and would attack with claws and teeth whoever dared venture in too far. After all, whatever lurked inside must have been sealed away for good reason.

His musings were interrupted by Rusl stopping next to him, and instinctively Link's hand reached back and wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

''What is it?'' Jaggle called from behind. The blacksmith was looking thoughtfully at the high trees surrounding them, and Link followed his gaze. Up in the crown, he saw the forked trunk coated in a silver mass of threads.

''What's that?'' he asked.

''Looks like a web to me,'' Rusl answered. ''But it's bigger than the ones made by Walltulas, and too high up.''

Walltulas were spiderlike creatures about as large as Link's head commonly found in shrubbery and perched on trees. Despite their size they were rather harmless and preferred to scurry to safety rather than stay and defend their home. Link concluded that, if this web was larger, then the spider that had made it had to be larger as well.

''Harold, do you recognize this web?'' Rusl called, and the little old man stepped up to them and gazed into the tree.

''My eyes are not as good as before, but if I'm not mistaken this looks like a Skulltula's web.''

Link felt a shiver run down his spine. A Skulltula was a fabled predator that got its name from the skull-like design on its rear. It was about as large as his torso and lurked in the trees for helpless prey it caught by lowering on its silvery thread and biting at its neck. To this day, however, Link had believed the spider to be all but extinct.

He trembled more as he let his look sweep across the treetops and saw an entire forest of white threads woven into the leaves and branches. His hand groped for Rusl's sleeve, the other pointing into the canopies as soon as he obtained the smith's attention.

''Oh Farore …'' Rusl mumbled grimly. ''This is getting better by the minute.''

The other men were more than happy to turn on their heels and did not bother conceal their nervousness until they were safely back on the Southern Road. Rusl led them onward, silent and brooding, and Link dared not ask what went on in his head. He himself could not pride himself with lack of fear upon seeing the Skulltulas' nest, and breathed much easier when Faron's Spring finally came into view.

It was larger than the one close to Ordon, its small garrulous waterfalls emptying themselves into a white sand basin by the road side. Monoliths of narrowing stone stood silent and watching among the ferns and ivy-clad trees, their grey surface littered with curved carvings. There was a perpetual shine to the crystal clear water, pulsating along with the gentle waves rolling over the sand. After all, it was not called a Light Spirit's spring for nothing.

They ate their lunch of bread and cheese at the edge of the water, chattering again as the soothing sound of gurgling water made them forget their earlier find. Their mood was not even dimmed as Rusl called them to attention and established groups of two to investigate the area around the spring. Fado, the most inexperienced fighter among them, was instructed to go with Rusl while Harold, having lost much of his stamina from his youthful years and would need a young swordsman to defend him, was to be accompanied by Link.

''Link, my lad, I'm getting too old for this,'' the elder said while they set off to the north through the trees. There was no path here except the Southern Road to their right, barely visible through the thicket. ''I should've stayed home with Gertie. She'd come after me with her broom if she knew we were plodding through the boscage like apes.''

''Don't say that,'' Link protested kindly while he brushed away a low hanging branch and held it for Harold to pass. ''You know more about the forest creatures than anyone. We would be lost without you.''

Harold's sparse teeth made an appearance as he grinned broadly. ''I hear you're becoming quite the scholar yourself, Link, with all them books you're reading. Swords are nice, but you need to know what you're fighting to stand a chance at winning. Oh, stop right there.''

He grabbed Link by the arm and pulled him to a crouch beside him. ''See that bud in the ground? That's a Deku Baba.''

Link's eyes widened, watching the gently pulsing bud halfway concealed in the shrubs a few feet before him. If Harold had not seen it, he would have stepped right into it.

''Aye, the Deku Baba,'' Harold said. ''Very dangerous teeth, strong jaws, but no eyes and no legs. Just a stalk with a maw. One of the many bizarre monsters we share this forest with. Strange to find it so close to the spring though. Usually they keep to the deeper parts.''

''Should we kill it?'' Link asked, reaching for his sword.

''Are you nuts? It's a rare species!'' Harold squeaked. ''You young folks are all about killing. When the monster don't attack you, leave it in peace. What'as Rusl been teaching you?''

Link lowered his head in shame and gulped. Despite highly valuing Harold's wit and wisdom, he had never quite appreciated the man's brashness that had intensified with old age, and the elder seemed completely unaware of how tactless his words occasionally sounded.

''Come, let's keep moving,'' Link said. ''We'll tell Rusl we saw one.''

They gave the bud a wide berth and walked on. As the ground fell a little and the old man nearly tripped over his own feet, Link hurried to support him. With a groan Harold leaned against a tree. ''Like apes, I say. Like blasted apes.''

The young Hylian let him rest while playing absentmindedly with his knife. The wind was chilly in the shadow of the trees, his bare arms teased into goose bumps by the cold. He closed his eyes and listened to the rustling of leaves above him, breathing in the fresh air.

''Uh, my back,'' Harold groaned next to him, and Link's lips arched upwards. He momentarily separated his lids to see his companion bend back with a moan.

Link's eyes closed again, but suddenly he frowned, reopening them and looking ahead. The wind had turned and was carrying an odd, putrid smell as if something was decaying further ahead. He pushed himself away from the trunk, pulling out his sword in alarm.

''Did you see something?'' Harold called behind him, also drawing his weapon. If his back still ached he was a master at hiding it now.

''I rather smelt something. Do you smell it too?'' The farmer shook his head, but Link did not see it while he lead the way through the trees. After a moment he remembered his duty, and turned around. ''Stay close to me.''

''I'm right behind you, laddie.''

They slowly advanced into the coppice, past thick trunks and black bushes. The trees had become so dense they blocked the light from the sky, rendering the space eerie and dark. Link had brought his lantern with him and crouched down to tap his flint on the metal rim around the wick, producing a spark that caught on the burnt cloth soaked in oil and went immediately aflame. Fog was now creeping up their legs and looked in the shadows like hands ready to grab them. As the air around them became thicker with humidity and the rancid stench intensified, Harold began to cough.

Then the path opened out into a vast clearing, and they were greeted by a sight that let them gasp. Purple fog wafted about the bases of the trees, shielding the ground completely from view. In the darkest areas it had crept up the trunks and had turned the leaves black with decay.

Link felt light-headed from the terrible smell and staggered backwards, groping for Harold's arm and pulling him back into the woods.

0

Link was roused out of his sleep early the next day; Rusl and Jaggle needed help in reinforcing the entrance gates.

The news of the Skulltula nest had caused great unrest among the villagers, but it was the poisonous purple fog Link and Harold had come across that had prompted the mayor to increase Ordon's measures of security. The children had been forbidden access to the forest and even Link was restricted to the immediate vicinity of his home. The goats were kept on the pasture adjacent to the village, the crop fields only allowed to be worked on appropriately armed. But despite the danger that lurked among the trees, Ordon's villagers refused to give in to fear. They whistled and laughed during their work just like before, and the men as well as the women trained with Rusl with all the fervour of people determined to protect their loved ones at all costs.

Jaggle brought his large toolbox from his workshop and hammered away on the gates while Link and Rusl felled a few nearby trees and brought them with Epona's help into Link's yard. Jaggle was the carpenter of Ordon tasked with the building of wheelbarrows, bowls, plates, the repairing of Gertie's loom or the fixing of a stable door at the ranch. He measured the sturdy trunks, drew the outlines of a few required slots to be carved out with a small hand axe, and instructed Rusl and Link on how to shape them to size.

''Link, mah laddie, woods ye come ower tae mah workshop thes efternuin an' help me wi' th' shield aam makin'?'' Jaggle asked the youth after the latter had assisted in heaving the trunk onto a pair of trestles. His words rung with the distinctive Ordonian dialect of provincial farmers, barely intelligible for people from the northern lands. But Link, even if his own Ordonian accent was much milder thanks to Rusl's and Uli's influence, had no trouble understanding every word.

''Of course, but what for?'' he inquired. ''We don't need a shield.''

Jaggle tapped his nose with a grin. ''Ah, that, mah laddie, is fur King Gustaf. While Rusl is makin' a bonnie sword, th' mayur tasked me tae make th' finest shield in th' kingdom. Ah even travelled tae Timberfeel lest week tae gie some wuid an' advice frae th' folk thaur. Ah have it in mah hoose, if yoo'd loch tae hae a look at it. Efter aw, it's ye fa is gonnae deliver it.''

Link's eyes grew big. ''Of course, I'd love to!'' he said, grinning.

So after the two gates leading out into the wilderness had been securely reinforced and locked, Link and Jaggle walked to the carpenter's house. The watermill attached to the back of the large rural building rumbled peacefully away as they passed by. Jaggle and his family were the more industrious fellows of Ordon, and next to all the work they did producing wares and conducting craftsmanship, they were parents to the two mischievous brats Talo and Malo, too young yet to understand responsibility. Link held the two full-time parents in great respect.

''Sae, let's see,'' Jaggle said and ushered Link inside the workshop. It wasn't particularly large but had all the tools needed to perform stunning woodworks: hammers, nails, saws, slicers, a manual drill for holes, piles of sandpaper, chisels in various sizes, a nice practical workbench, as well as loads and loads of sawdust.

On the bench sat an intricately carved shield made from a large piece of hardwood, finely sanded. Its top rim curved upwards in a rounded variation of the classic heater shield, the standard in Hyrule.

''It's nae quite finished yit, Ah still need tae attach th' handle an' th' enarmes. Ah had thooght 'at yoo'd loch tae dae th' paintin' an' mebbe ye have an idea fur some engravin' oan th' upper reem.''

Link chuckled. ''Sure, I'll see what I can do.''

For about half an hour, Link scratched and sketched away on the shield while Jaggle worked on the leather enarmes that would keep the shield attached to the wearer's arm. The soft noises of their activities sounded like an improvised rhythm, making the atmosphere in the workshop pleasantly convivial.

Jaggle was punching the nail holes into the leather, whistling a merry tune, when Link stood up and brought the shield to the carpenter to look at. ''Here, what do you think?''

''Och, whit an artwork! Weel dain, laddie!'' Jaggle exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

In the middle of the shield Link had drawn the traditional circular Ordon goat horn, striped the entire length and widening near the bottom. The real goat possessed two white stripes on its forehead which Link had also depicted in the centre of the horn. The muzzle was a large dot of black, encircling the two stripes and coming up to the horn in form of two stubby lines forming the eyes. Since the horn was shaped like a circle, there had been a lot of space in the round area that he had filled with two curved lines symbolizing the goat's ears. To finish the crest, he had drawn the outline of the animal's head with some fur sticking out, making the painting look like a friendly goat gazing at them from the front, with the horn towering over its smaller head.

''Aam impressed!'' Jaggle said, tapping the lad on the shoulder. Link nodded his thanks and pointed at the top rim of the shield where he had made three more pencil sketches.

''I drew a pattern here, and the tree of Ordona in the middle. Is that okay for the engraving?''

The tree of Ordona was a depiction of a leaf tree resembling a fir with many branches departing from a tall centre to form a rough cone. It was the symbol of protection for the goat herds in Ordona Province, its origin coming from the many firs and pines found in the South. It was depicted mainly on gates and barn doors to keep evil spirits aloof, but Fado also wore this picture on his traditional garb which identified him as the master goat herd, whereas Link only had a leaf of the tree on his garments since he was just the ranch hand.

''It's stoatin good! Traditional but innovative. Bo will loove it!''

Link glanced out of the window and saw the sun steadily sinking towards the horizon. ''Got to go, Jaggle. Epona needs her washing and I've still got some housework to do.''

The miller laughed. ''Ye pure need tae gie yerself a lassie, Link. Hoosework's fur burds!''

The youth smiled a little self-consciously while he went to the door. ''I've got my girl already. She pulls trees out of the woods and takes me wherever I want to go.''

Knowing it would amuse the perky carpenter, he added in a voice he forced to be cheeky. ''You can't want more from a lass, eh?''

Jaggle let out a booming laugh behind him, and Link waved goodbye before leaving the house with a faint, relieved smile.

His girl was waiting patiently as well as his laundry, the dusty floor, the dirty crockery in the sink, his training puppet which he had managed to break to pieces once again and the goats on the ranch he had to herd back into the barn at sundown. It would be a busy afternoon for him.

While he was sitting in his yard in front of Epona's stable – a big wash basin with hot water, soap and most of his clothes in it positioned between his legs where he was kneading them vigorously – the mare behind him began to stomp.

He had given her a thorough wash and she was now drying while grazing unattached on the small clearing that was his yard. Her glistening fur twitched as she flexed her muscles, emitting a few worried sounds. Link looked at her, saw her fidgeting around and quickly stood up to hold her by the reins.

''Hey girl, what's the matter?''

She suddenly whinnied and reared up to her full height, causing Link to stumble backwards. She turned around and galloped to the trees, stopping while rearing up anew.

The young Hylian was reaching for his bow the moment he saw the bushes tremble in front of the large mare. A rumbling sound, guttural and beastly, made his blood freeze. Epona neighed as her hooves thrashed through the bush and shredded it to pieces. Then a wail sounded, a shadow fled her angry moves, and Link dashed forward.

''Come on, Epona! After it!''

The horse was on her way, Link sprinting behind her through the trees. He could only make out the silhouette of a swaying figure that fled with quick steps, legs too short to be of much help to its escape. In its right claw – or whatever it was the creature possessed as hands – it held a long object that flashed occasionally in the rare light beams finding their way through the treetops.

Link's mind was reeling; this must be what they had been searching for in Faron Woods, a bokoblin. He could not quite make it out because of its smaller shape constantly disappearing behind bushes or trunks, but Epona was hard on the pursuit. She crashed through the coppice taking no notice of the destruction she was causing. Her ears were flattened tightly to the head, as were Link's.

But the trees soon grew too dense for her large shape to squeeze through. Link stopped as well as he saw the creature slide down a minor hill and briefly disappeared from his sight. Instead of following it, he readied an arrow and pulled back hard, aiming at the base of the hill.

Soon, the frantic monster reappeared, still running in clumsy swaying motions as fast as it could. This fellow would not threaten Ordon ever again, Link though with teeth clenched tight. One eye shut, the other set on his target, he released the shaft that soared through the air noiselessly. A gurgling shriek issued out of the bokoblin's drivelling mouth before it toppled to the ground, the feathered weapon sticking out of its back.

Link huffed deeply and slung the longbow over his shoulder, tapping Epona's quaking flank. ''Well spotted, girl,'' he praised, panting. ''Now what should we do with this one?''

He took her reins and walked over to the carcass, crinkling his nose at the stench wafting from the monster. He wondered why he had not smelt the ill-minded foe as it had sneaked up to him earlier. Its wrinkled skin was of a washed-out blue and almost looked painted, with roughly braided, snow-white hair bound to a tight ponytail on its scalp. It had an array of sparse, yellowed teeth set into a particularly prominent jaw and only rivalled in size by the pair of large and excessively pointy ears that stuck out of the small skull in a right angle. He just now realized, as he saw the long knife in its bony fingers, that it had tried to kill him, completely unaware while he was washing his clothes. Had it not been for Epona, he would have likely succumbed to that fate.

He decided to leave the corpse where it was and tell the mayor of the intruder, yet as he turned around to mount his steed, Rusl and the stout leader were already running towards him.

''Colin saw you run off into the woods. What is this all about?'' Rusl asked crossly as soon as he came up to him, but let out a disgusted grunt the moment he saw the carcass lying in a grotesque heap on the moist forest earth. ''Is it dead?''

''Yes,'' Link assured and lifted his chin, unconsciously moving closer to his kill. ''It was on the run, but I shot it down before it could escape.''

''Very good, lad,'' Bo praised, huffing and puffing in effort; his bellied form was more accustomed to merry talking and drink than a sprint through the forest. ''Have you seen more of them?''

''No, just this one. It was sneaking up to me in my yard, but Epona noticed it in time. You saved my life, lass!'' Link added, tapping on her neck affectionately. The horse was sniffing at the bokoblin and flinched back with a snort.

''It was trying to kill you?'' Rusl asked. His voice was tainted with worry and fright.

Bo let out a hum as he thought. ''It probably came in before you secured the gates. Dear Farore, I'm glad you found it. It could have attacked anyone if not you. Rusl, I want you to take Jaggle and Moe and go look if there are any others, and chase them away.''

''Mayor, I can help too,'' Link proposed.

''Certainly not, son!'' Rusl called a tad too loudly.

''Easy, Rusl,'' Bo said, placing a calming hand on the smith's shoulder before addressing Link. ''Thank you for the offer, but you already did more than was necessary. Such tasks should not fall to you, my boy.''

''He should not have run after it all on his own, either'' Rusl snapped and turned on Link. ''Do you have any idea what could have happened? There could have been a whole group of them hiding in there. Are you _trying_ to get killed?''

Sweet adrenaline was still pumping through Link's veins from the hunt, making him light-headed and twitchy. ''No, Rusl, I just…''

''Come now, Rusl,'' Bo said. ''He was only trying to help.''

''I don't care!'' the smith yelled. ''None of you children are allowed into the forest, and that includes you, Link. If I catch you doing something like this again, I'll rethink your trip to Hyrule. Did I make myself clear?''

Link was muted with disbelief. He stared at Rusl, hands clenched to fists and tears forming in his eyes. It was not fair; the day before he had taken Link into the woods on their reconnaissance tour, shared jokes and responsibilities with him, treated him like a man. Now, Link was back to being a child in his eyes again. Had it not been for him, that bokoblin could have wreaked havoc in the entire village, but Rusl had turned from his accomplishment and seen Link's intervention as nothing but a foolish endangerment of his own life.

''Link?'' Rusl growled.

''Yes,'' the Hylian murmured and grabbed Epona's reins. Silently he walked back to his house, ignoring the two men behind him carrying the dead bokoblin.

''I am thankful to you, whatever Rusl says,'' Mayor Bo told him quietly in Link's yard once the smith was out of earshot dragging the carcass into Ordon to be burned. ''He just doesn't want you to get hurt, because he loves you very dearly. I hope you know that.''

Link nodded, stroking Epona's neck while watching his kill disappear behind the hillside. Despite the argument leaving him moody and sullen, he knew what he had accomplished, the arrow stained with the bokoblin's dark blood like a trophy in his clenched hand. And he was now certain of one thing: if ever he'd encounter more of them on the way to Hyrule, he knew now that he could handle them. He realized with a content smile that, except for the sharp teeth and the weapon they wielded, they were not nearly as dangerous as he had thought.

000


	4. Chapter 3

_**Author's note:** I am quite happy with how this chapter turned out. I did a lot of rewriting and filing, especially on the description of Hyrule's interesting currency system, Rusl's and Uli's visit to Link in the evening, and Ilia's role in Link's life. This chapter deals with his relationships, of how he feels indebted to them and would sacrifice even his greatest dream to see his friends come to no harm. It strengthens his character, adds some quirky info about his destination, and brings the most important people to him into the foreground. I believe it is rather fitting for the last peaceful chapter in a long time, with Talo's kidnapping being the last still harmless foretaste of what atrocities are to come._

**Chapter 3**

Two weeks passed by as if in a hurry, and the great day was approaching. The villagers could already sense the change of demeanour in the young Hylian the more the date came nearer; he was constantly in a good mood, practised swordplay a lot more and always played his flute in the evenings. His horse companion also acted more lively as if she sensed that something new was coming. Link often took her to the spring for a wash and more than once came back soaking wet, presumably because Epona had been stung by a bug of fun and had shoved him into the water. Link was sure that this was her way of displaying her anticipation.

The large field in the mountains had been ploughed and sowed, so Link passed most of his days on the ranch and tended to his duties as a wrangler. He cleaned the stables more thoroughly and made many repairs and improvements to the fences. Fado often caught him whistling while brushing the blue-grey fur of a goat, and could only shake his head with a grin. Everyone in Ordon was happy for the boy and knew that Bo and Rusl had made the right choice in sending him as representative. Even if the road to Hyrule had become even more dangerous lately with bokoblins roaming the forest paths and attacking travellers, Link was convinced that the journey would be the adventure of a lifetime.

On another bright spring day, a three-noted whistle resounded over the ranch and into Ordon, and the townsfolk tending to their duties paused and watched the red beast trot through the village. Link was standing with Fado near the ranch gate and held it open for Epona to come through, before closing it quickly as a few curious goats approached with mischief in their black eyes.

''Aw reet mucker, as usual,'' Fado said, making his way towards the barn while Link mounted Epona. The Hylian leaned forward momentarily and tapped her neck, wriggling his weight comfortably into the big leather saddle before nudging her flanks with his heels.

Epona's breed had a stormy spirit, and only Link had been able to tame her. This was why he did the herding, for Fado simply did not have the authority that the imposing mare possessed. Her bulk and large hooves were the only means of persuasion daunting enough for the stubborn goats to make off with haste. When Link then shouted and waved his hand to shoo them along, the bleating animals geared up to a sprint to reach as much distance as possible between the horse and its rider. If Link sent them in the right direction they ran headlong into the barn where Fado pushed them into their stables. All three had been herding their goats in this manner for years, so that afternoon the feat was accomplished in a matter of minutes.

The barn door banged shut, and Fado walked over to Link and Epona. ''Whit was it, tha' moorns awreddy, mate?''

Link jumped off. ''Yes,'' he said. ''Tomorrow at midday we're off. And you're sure you'll manage them without me?''

Fado laughed and patted Epona's neck. ''Whit dae ye hink Ah did when ye waur a laddie? Aw'll manage, dornt ye fash yerse.''

Link smiled and raised a hand while he mounted again and trotted out of the ranch.

He still had the afternoon left to practise, and he wanted to make full use of that time; if he really encountered some creatures on the road, he preferred to be prepared. As they walked through the village, the people who were busy weeding their gardens greeted him with waves and calls. The children screamed as they saw him and lined up around Epona, escorting him to his house.

''Will you practise again, Link?'' Beth asked and laid a hand on the horse's warm flank. Talo was in front of them and swinging a stick around like a sword, shredding the high patches of grass. Malo shuffled along behind them, making sure to be at a generous distance from Epona's hind legs. Link had once made him aware of the danger that could occur when he passed behind a horse too close and could likely lose what few teeth his youth had given him with the help of a well-aimed hoof. Malo had been shocked deeply by that useful bit of information, and had vowed under his breath to never approach a horse in his life.

''Which one will you do today?'' Beth kept on asking as Link hopped off and emptied a sack of grain into Epona's trough.

''I don't know yet. Probably the feint attack,'' he answered while retrieving his sword from its sheathe. He had gotten used to carrying it with him at all times. It felt good to have the additional weight on his back, for it radiated a welcomed sense of security that sometimes made him feel almost invincible.

His poor training mannequin had suffered more over the last couple of weeks and clanked miserably as he began to hack away at it to get warm. Talo tried for the hundredth time to imitate his moves on a nearby tree, his short stick thudding along with Link's metallic strikes. But following Link's movements posed a problem, for he did not use his right hand as Talo did. Link was a left-hander.

The first time Rusl had given him a wooden sword to train with, he had been perplexed to see Link hold it in his left hand. Though left-handedness was a trait more rare than common, most people Rusl knew with the same complexity had managed to adapt to the majority with enough practice, eventually writing and fighting right-handed just like everyone else. This had not been the case with Link, who over the years of practice had tried and failed to train his offhand effectively, retaining his amateurish clumsiness despite all the drilling imaginable. In the end, Link had resorted to learn from Rusl by copying and mirroring his every move, becoming the only person Rusl knew who fought like a reflection of himself.

''I'll never make it!'' Talo shouted, and Link paused.

''Of course you will. I started off just like you when I was eleven.''

''But you have a real sword, with metal and all,'' Talo pouted. ''I want to have a real sword too.''

''Well, you can't have one,'' Beth scolded with her arms stemmed into her sides. ''And Link is much more skilled than you, that's why he has one.''

''I'm sure I could fight with a real sword, and chase away those monkeys for good,'' the green-eyed boy said stubbornly, shooting a thundering gaze at Beth.

Link sighed as the two started quarrelling, and instead of listening he went back to his puppet. In the distance he noticed the small form of Colin step into his yard from the hill path, halting the moment he saw the two arguing children. As Link waved him nearer, Colin smiled and hurried towards his older, symbolic brother.

''How are you doing today, Colin?'' Link asked when he was sure the other kids weren't listening. ''Have you tried talking to the others, like I proposed?''

Colin's face turned pained, and he hung his head. ''No.''

It was no secret that the blond boy had trust issues. Talo's and Beth's brash behaviour had forever prompted him to seek the shelter of solitude or his mother's company over that of his peers, and in his ten years he had never quite managed to earn both their interest and their respect. If it only remained at that; lately Talo had found great pleasure in teasing Colin, and Beth had done little to step in between. Colin had retreated even more after the first incidents and had caused great worry among his parents, whom he refused to tell of Talo by fear of being harassed even more. Link was the only one the boy truly felt safe to confide in, but part of Link wondered if the extreme shyness of his little brother had sprouted as an aftermath of Link's separation from his surrogate parents.

To protect him and share his wisdom with him seemed the only way he felt he could make it up to his little brother. ''You know, I can always talk to them, and tell them to include you in their games more often.''

Colin shook his head. ''No, you don't have to. And besides, I don't want to learn how to fight, it's scary and dangerous.''

''You wouldn't need to fight with them, you could play other games.''

''But they never listen to me,'' Colin answered sadly, plopping down on the grass and staring at his feet. ''I'm a coward.''

Link sat down next to him while sticking his sword into the earth. He did not notice Beth and Talo's arguing become quieter. ''You're not a coward, Colin. All you have to do is talk to them, tell them what you want to do. Show them that you exist and that you have good game ideas too.''

''Do I?'' Colin looked at him hopefully, and Link nodded with a smile.

''Of course you do. Remember the one time we built that dam at the creek and flooded half the village?''

''We got scolded for that.''

"Yes, all right, but it was still a great thing to build, and it had been your idea. I'm sure Talo and Beth would love to build something else with you, if you just told them.''

The young boy's face dropped again. ''But why do they never ask me if I want to play? Is something wrong with me?''

''That depends on how you see yourself. _Is_ there something wrong with you?'' Link stated, cocking his head in Colin's direction. The boy frowned, thinking hard, toying with his fingers absentmindedly. After a moment he looked back up.

''I'm too shy,'' he said.

Link smiled. ''And that's what you need to work on. But it will disappear once you find out how to beat it.''

''How do I find out?''

''Try things, come out of your shell, and see what happens. If something goes wrong, remember that it's not the end of the world, and that there's always a tomorrow to try again.'' The Hylian tapped lightly on the boy's shoulder with a grin. ''And then you'll see your true potential, find out who you really are.''

Colin's eyes beamed with happiness. ''You know, when I'm older, I'm gonna be just like you, Link. I'm gonna be brave and I'll have a horse as well.''

Link laughed. ''Well, if you want to have a horse you need to know how to ride first. How about I teach you as soon as I'm back from Hyrule?''

''Oh, yes please!''

As if on cue, Epona let out a snort and stomped her hooves against the stable door. The two blue-eyed boys looked at her, Link standing up slowly.

''Did she approve, Link?'' Colin asked, still smiling. But as he saw the frown on Link's face, he gulped.

The Hylian turned to him. ''Where are the others?''

They both looked around in search for Talo's red headscarf, Beth's short, hazelnut hair, and Malo's black tufts. The yard was empty. Epona now whinnied softy, a plaintive sound that made Link's skin crawl.

''I don't believe it,'' Link grunted. ''Run to the village and tell Rusl that the kids ran off. I'll try to catch up with them.''

Colin was frozen for a moment, but as Link called for him while mounting his steed, the little boy ran off without a glance back. His sandals swirled up the dust of the dirt path as he disappeared down the hill, Link instead tapping Epona's sides to send her into a trot.

The gates were wide open as they hurried out of town, and Link grunted crossly. Did their parents not make it clear that the forest had become a dangerous place and that the gates must always be closed? He quickly dismounted to pull the gate shut again, securing it with the chain Rusl had crafted for that purpose. As he was about to mount, however, his look fell on the scattered dust of the path.

He knelt down, quickly taking in the scene. Prints wide apart indicated Talo running as if chasing something. Beth's footprints were closer and deeper near the front, for she always sauntered a little when she ran. Malo's trace was a complete mess, the too long orange skirt tied around his waist having smudged his prints. There was, however, a fourth track he made out of the other three, the owner possessing claws at the front and abnormally long toes. This, Link immediately identified, was the trace of a monkey.

''Oh no, Talo…'' he mumbled and followed the tracks out of Ordona Province and into the dark woods of Faron.

For the major part of the last two weeks, a monkey had ventured into the village – even in broad daylight – to steal some food out of the barn or the houses. It had sparked Talo's sense of duty prematurely, causing the boy to chase after it on many occasions with none but his father capable of stopping him. The question of why the monkey was unable to feed itself had been dismissed as a result of the increasing bokoblin attacks and Skulltula population, however Link had been dissatisfied with that explanation. Monkeys were sturdy creatures, more mischievous than frightened, and were capable of defending themselves even against larger enemies or at least agile enough to outrun and avoid them. What was more confusing, however, was that all the food burglaries seemed to be carried out by only that one monkey.

Link drew his sword as soon as the sun was blocked by the thick canopies of Faron Woods, and he shuddered with dread. He remembered reluctantly Rusl's strict warning if he ever entered the forest on his own.

Suddenly, a shriek resounded in the trees, and his ears perked up. It had been Talo's voice. Epona snorted beneath him and sprang into a gallop at his command. He pressed his legs deeply into her sides, crouching low over her withers. Rusl's threat vanished from his mind; he would gladly jeopardise his trip to Hyrule if it meant keeping the children from harm.

The dark trees and leaves rushed past them, the chilly air of the shadowed forest whipping around Link's face. The Southern Road stretched out before them at the end of the narrow forest path, but there was no sign of the children. Link pulled gently on Epona's reins and she came to a halt at the junction.

''Talo! Malo, Beth!'' he shouted, looking around desperately.

''Link?'' Beth's quivering voice rang out close to him, and he jumped. The young girl came out of the coppice with Malo in tow, both looking as pale as ghosts with dirt covering their arms and knees. They had been crawling in the soil.

''What happened?'' Link asked as he jumped off and knelt before them to be at their eye level. Beth was crying, Malo just looked shocked.

''They have my brother,'' came his quiet reply.

''Who? Where did they go?'' He had placed his hands on Beth's upper arms to calm her, gently shaking her. ''Where are they?''

The girl pointed a quaking finger north, up the Southern Road. ''Boboblins… They attacked us and took Talo… They've got a wagon…'' she stammered.

Link nodded and turned his head to see a figure in the distance running towards them through the trees, a sword in their right hand. ''Stay with Rusl, I'll be right back.''

''Link, stay where you are!'' He could just hear Rusl's shout from behind before his mare carried him away.

He had forgotten to strap on his bow; now he would have to fight those creatures in close combat. After a turn in the road, he suddenly perceived a foul smell in the wind and gurgling sounds over Epona's clomping hooves. As he raised his head to see better, he was surprised by a black form racing towards him, and he shouted out.

It landed right on top of him, sending him to the ground. Epona reared up and thrashed her legs about the moment he picked himself up. A raspy bellow sounded from the side, and he had just the time to raise his blade before his side was punched by a heavy piece of wood.

''Link!'' Talo's voice screamed out over the ruckus of barks and gurgles, causing Link to quickly shove his opponent away and glance around him quickly.

There was indeed a small wagon pulled by two bokoblins attached to it like animals, the other two that had attacked him presumably acting as escort. Talo was inside what looked like a wooden cage that stood on the cart, rattling the bars frantically. A furry creature was curled up behind him.

_The monkey!_ Link thought as he recognized the small animal, and whirled around to parry a sudden blow from the blue monster that came jumping at him again, weapon brandished. He hesitated, holding his blade up in defence. Never had he taken a life with a sword before.

But his mind urged him to act as the bokoblin lunged, and Link closed his eye. He yelled out, held the weapon horizontally away from his body, built up tension in his legs and torso, and thrashed the metal into the foe's side as hard as he could. The blade sliced through blue skin and red flesh, dark blood spurting out of the fatal wound and raining all over Link's body. He coughed and spat as he fell from the recoil of his attack. His enemy collapsed next to him.

''Look out!'' Talo screeched, but Link had already seen the wooden club dashing for his head. He rolled to the side to avoid the blow and struck the monster with the tip of his sword right in the guts, causing blood to shoot out of its mouth. He straightened the moment it fell over and another one in front of him attempted a strike. This blow he saw too late, and he screamed out as the sharpened wood cut his arm. Fortunately it was the right one, the creature presumably thinking it had rendered him unable to fight. Link brought up his weapon and knocked the monster over from the left, sending it tumbling over its two dead siblings. He swirled the plain sword in his palm to make it point right towards the chest of his opponent, shouting out a final time as he drove the steel through its heart.

Quaking, the bokoblin gurgled out, spasms shooting through its wretched body before it became still. Link was breathing hard, his hands trembling on the hilt of the blade he still held rooted in the creature's chest. As he pulled it out, a jet of blood shot out of the stab and made him tumble to the ground.

''Link?'' Talo's voice was small and scared.

''Don't look,'' Link said, forcing his tone to be calm. He sheathed his weapon and hurried to the cage on the wagon. ''Don't look at them, or you'll just get nightmares. Did they hurt you?'' He was sure to get even more nightmares from now on, but he could live with that. Over the weeks, he had gotten used to them.

''No, I'm okay. Please get me out of here,'' the boy whimpered, rattling the bars. Link briefly searched for an opening in the wooden structure, and finding none he pulled his soaked blade out again and stepped back.

''Get down,'' he said, waiting for Talo to roll together on the floor of the cage before taking the hilt in both hands and, with a grunt, smashing the sharp metal against the top of the bars.

Wood splinters flew away in every possible direction as well as the blade of his sword that was catapulted into the undergrowth. ''Ah, dammit,'' he mumbled, looking at the handle in his hand. Rusl had said it was not very strong, and now he had demolished his first real sword after only one fight.

He threw the useless hilt aside and got to work pulling apart the bars of the cage. The monkey squeaked in panic, punching Talo several times as she tried to get out on her own, and as Link finally broke enough bars away for them to crawl out, she flung herself at him, knocking him overall. Without a glance back she fled into the woods.

Link found himself on the ground, sitting between the pieces of the broken cage as he looked after the escaping monkey. He was surprised by Talo's short arms winding around his bloodstained waist.

The sun was setting slowly and sending the forest into a chilly twilight. Talo seemed to be too scared and tired to walk, so Link gently took him in his arms and made his way back down the Southern Road. Epona had vanished from the fighting scene shortly after he had been attacked by the first bokoblin jumping on him from a tree, but he knew that she would be all right. She knew her way back, just like him, and he trusted her to return eventually.

He felt tired, worn and thirsty, the putrid taste of bokoblin blood still clinging to his tongue. He would have to wash at least his traditional clothes and remove all the blood, for he could not possibly show up in the capital city of Hyrule and swear loyalty to the king without his identifying garbs. If he wanted to be a representative of Ordon, then he would have to look like it.

Then his drawn-up ears perceived quick footsteps followed by the cracking of branches and loud panting. Behind a curve of the road he saw his father figure with Jaggle, Moe, and Bo hurrying towards them. Beth and Malo were following a little distance away, Colin close by.

''Gracious Din!'' Rusl shouted and jumped into a run. Jaggle stopped short the moment he saw his son in Link's arms, looking dead at first sight. At his frightful look, Link quickly shook his head.

''Don't worry, he's all right.''

The carpenter took Talo from Link's arms and held him firmly against his chest, laughing and crying at the same time. ''Great Nayru! Dornt ye ever drife sic' a fricht intae me again, Talo!''

Then Rusl grabbed Link by the arms and looked him over frantically. Since he was covered in blood, the blacksmith immediately thought the worst. ''What's all this blood? You're hurt! Quick, sit down, I'll get Uli.''

''No, I'm okay. Just a few scratches, nothing serious.''

''Then were does that blood come from?'' Bo asked.

''He killed those mean monsters that wanted to eat us,'' Talo responded from his father's arms. ''He saved me and the monkey.''

''I had to defend myself when they attacked me,'' Link countered, not fancying the idea of looking like a killer in their eyes. ''They took me by surprise.''

''You should never have run off on your own!'' Rusl suddenly shouted. ''I told you to stay and wait for me. You could have gotten killed!''

He was doing it again. Link first flinched back out of pure instinct and felt betrayed by his own respect for the older man. His hands balled, his brow lowering angrily. ''And leave Talo to be carted off?'' he burst out. ''I was responsible for their safety, and I made a mess of it. I had to bring him back.''

Rusl paused for a moment, his eyes wide and furious. He had not expected a retort, and Link found himself invigorated by his surprise.

''But you are not nearly prepared to fight an entire group of them. Playing the hero was not your duty!'' The smith's words were sharp with anger and intended to sting, causing Link's ears to draw back. He was not used to such outbursts from his father figure, and it fuelled his own fury all the more.

''I killed them, Rusl! I killed them all, without your or anyone else's help. I think I'm more than prepared for it.''

''You are being arrogant, Link. This kind of thinking is not what I taught you.''

''What did you teach me then? That I should save myself instead of protecting those in danger?''

This time Rusl's voice rose to a roar. ''I taught you that when I tell you something, you obey, son!''

''Don't call me that! You are not my–''

Link stopped himself, Rusl's astonished stare making him lower his eyes. An awkward silence fell over them in which Jaggle and his son looked back and forth between them. The mayor quickly intervened by ushering Jaggle and Talo along the path.

''I thought you were more responsible than this,'' the blacksmith finally said, his voice shaking. With visible effort he forced his anger to simmer down, and instead reached for a hug. ''I'm just glad you're safe–''

Link stepped back and pushed the man's arms away. ''I broke your sword, I'm sorry,'' he said, and placed the severed handle into Rusl's hand before turning away to follow the others back to the village.

0

Their return caused no small amount of clamour among the villagers roused from their work by the news and gathered at the gate. Link was subjected to concerned prodding and questioning and had to retell his pursuit and the killing several times, accepting incessant words of thank you and praise, before he was allowed to leave for his home and change. His mood, however, had been tainted by his argument with Rusl, and he washed his bloodied clothes in a gloomy silence.

''Don't take it so to heart, Link,'' Ilia told him from where she lounged on a rug. She had come over to help him with his preparations. ''True, you shouldn't have snapped at him, but he's a grown-up, he can take it.''

''I just wish he would stop treating me like a child,'' Link answered and hung his hands in the cold water. ''But I guess I still acted like a child. I shouldn't have…'' he sighed. ''I was just trying to help.''

''What you did was reckless, and you said things only a brat would say–'' she admitted, earning a scowl from him, ''–but in the end you did the right thing, and he should be grateful to you. Nayru knows what could have happened to Talo if you hadn't found him in time. Those beasts could have taken him anywhere.''

Link smiled, running a hand through his moist hair still drying from its wash. The two thick strands hanging in front of his Hylian ears and framing his curved cheeks were still dripping. Ilia watched him while he resumed his work, resting her gaze on the tip of his right ear showing through his midlong hair.

When he was younger, his hair used to reach to his shoulders. Colin had once told her that Link had let it grow so he could hide the two inch ears beneath them, hoping to look more human. That had not satisfied him for long, however, since the stubborn tips had found a way to poke through regardless of what he did to conceal them. He had cut the rest shorter but for the two strands.

She sighed. Those graceful pointy ears of his had caused him grief ever since she knew him. They were what let him stand apart from the other denizens, for they were the only real feature of him that instantly showed he was not Human like her or the others. The time he learned that he was adopted had been horrible, and not only for Link. Ilia, being his best friend since they could walk, had been the one to find him in this very tree, crying and telling her to go away. She had been appalled to find his right ear bleeding, with the pointed auricle bearing a minor cut. He had attempted to get rid of the excessive skin and cartilage that composed his Hylian ears, thinking that he might be a part of Ordon's townsfolk without them. His common sense and profuse pain had prevented him from finishing the deed, to the great relief of the entire village. After that, her father had ceremoniously girded him with his own traditional garbs and had apprenticed him on Fado's ranch so that he would finally feel like a true Ordonian. This and the building of his home had gradually healed the wounds, leaving behind only bad memories. They were still remembered sometimes when he was sad and his ears lowered, revealing the long scar on his right auricle.

''So, are you excited to leave for Hyrule?'' she asked, avoiding his look.

A bright grin washed over his face. ''Excited? It's all I can think about. I've been dreaming of this my whole life.''

She smiled, albeit forcibly. She was not particularly keen on Link leaving Ordon, especially now after the frightening attack and Talo's kidnapping. But she knew any attempt at persuading him to stay would go unheeded; his attempts at concealing his true nature were just his ways of trying to fit into a place he did not truly belong. Hyrule had forever called to him from where it lay, far to the north and grand beyond anything she was able to imagine. It would be unjust of her to deny him his wish, even though she feared the consequences of the visit more than she feared begging him to stay. What if he liked it so much he never wished to return?

''Well…'' He frowned and looked down at his soaked clothes after she had confronted him. ''I've never really thought about it.'' He shook his head and gave her a bright grin. ''No, that's nonsense. Hyrule may be my birth place, but Ordon is where I grew up. Besides, you'd give me hell if I ever decided to leave you and the others behind.''

''You're damn right about that,'' she answered, her look darting to a bucket of water standing by the fireplace. Link once more busy with his clothes, she crept up to him and flung the content into his face.

''What the – Ilia!'' he cried and lunged for her. She was doubling up with laughter and turned towards the large barrel where Link kept his fresh drinking water, dipping the pail into it. Link raised his hands as she advanced on him with her weapon raised. ''No no no! Don't you –''

Another waterfall of cold greeted him along with shrill giggles. He sputtered and coughed, striping his soaked hair out of his face. She turned around to repeat when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her towards him, dislodging the bucket from her hands. He pulled her backwards, but she surprised him by spinning around and ploughing headlong into him. Yelling and laughing they both tumbled to the ground.

''Let this be a reminder,'' she panted, lying on his stomach and looking down at his handsome, grinning face. ''Knights get slapped to remember their oath, well you get soaked instead. You're coming back as soon as you're done with that ceremony, and don't you dare get yourself hurt out there, because Rusl is right.''

His smile faded when he saw her urgent look. ''What do you mean?''

''You weren't prepared to fight these bokoblins all alone, and you really could have gotten killed. Link, if something were to happen to you, how do you think I would feel?''

He stayed quiet for a moment, his arms wrapped around her. She felt her heart pound more heavily as she realised just how close she was to him. Her cheeks began to glow.

''I think you would be really mad at me,'' he finally murmured. ''You would call me reckless, and stupid, and probably even stop being friends with me.''

His hand glided up her back to rest on the back of her head, and gently he lowered her forehead to his lips, giving her a gentle peck. Suddenly she felt dizzy.

''Then I'm giving you my promise that I'll come back to you, as unhurt as I can,'' he said, looking deeply into her eyes. Then he grinned once more, lifting his head and shaking his soaked hair to send a spray of droplets into her face.

''You just can't be serious, can you?'' she giggled and hugged him despite his wetness.

Just as she had been the one to know his feelings in the past, so had he always known to discern hers. His absence would open a void in her she was afraid to face, but knowing he would do his best to come back to her unscathed settled her to a point where she felt more or less untroubled in seeing him go. His display of affection, however, perplexed her, for never had he shown this kind of tenderness to anyone else in the village, not even to his surrogate parents or his little brother – with the exception of his horse, of course. Thinking of his mare, she realized that Epona was indeed the only one in the hamlet whom he openly cared for.

And it made her wonder if he could care as much for a person as he cared for his horse.

She shook her head at her own foolishness; of course he could. The children held a very special place in his heart, otherwise he would not have rushed off into battle with no concern of his own safety to keep Talo from being kidnapped. Colin was his symbolic little brother whom he would protect with more than just his life. Rusl and Uli were to ones to raise him, teach him all he knew, and set him free when he needed it most. Even her father, the mayor, had Link's utmost respect and loyalty, not to mention a relationship much resembling that of an uncle or a second father. And Ilia…

Ilia was his best friend, with whom he would spend all the moments he did not spend working, or hunting, or playing with the children, or by his lonesome self. Long nights talking and reading, afternoons of cooking and playing. He would take her on rides in their free time, or on walks through the forest and mountains, or show her his newest sword technique he had learned from Rusl. He would comfort her when she thought of her mother, gone too soon. She would console him when he felt like no one in the village truly understood him. Because she did. Sometimes.

But not always.

She became aware of the mess she had made, and cringed. ''Sorry about the water… Shall I help you clean up?''

''Oh, don't worry about it,'' he chuckled. ''I wanted to wipe the floor anyway before I left for Hyrule.''

Disentangling herself from his embrace, she drew herself up. She felt queerly light on her feet. ''Then I think I'll go now, I've still got some work to do myself.''

Link lifted his brows as he stood up. ''I thought you were done for the day.''

''Well, almost. And besides, I think packing your bags for a long trip should be something you do in private, with no one around who could change your mind about leaving.''

He smiled, but his brows furrowed slightly with confusion. She averted her eyes and quickly turned around to walk towards the door.

What had she been thinking? She would not be enough to keep him from going, not when the destination was his lifelong dream come true. And as much as she tried to ignore it, she could not prevent the pain this certainty caused within her. Instead she hurried down the ladder and gave Epona a quick pet before walking back towards the village. At the hill she turned and saw him standing by the door. Gathering her courage, she smiled and waved.

''I'll see you tomorrow!''

Yet the nagging feeling of uncertainty followed her even to her father's house, an urge to do whatever was possible to keep Link from going to sleep that evening.

0

Night fell over Ordon, and Link was terribly nervous; he stumbled through his home as if he had never set foot in it, things were tipped from their shelves accidentally while he packed a saddlebag with what he would bring along to Hyrule. His beloved flute did not fit into the bag, so he admitted sadly that he had to leave it behind. But he took a roll of parchment and a pencil with him; if he encountered musicians in Castle Town – which was certain due to the sheer size of the city – he would write down tunes he did not know yet. A few rags for washing and a bar of soap were also among his luggage, as well as his flint and some tinder. He would take food tomorrow, for Sera had insisted on packing his other saddlebag with what he would need as a thank you for having kept her daughter Beth safe.

Late evening he opened his door at a knock from Uli. She was holding a basket filled with a few of her most prized glass bottles, causing Link's eyes to go wide; glass was horrendously expensive but by far the best material to keep medicine in, and the smith's wife had over time honed her alchemical and herbal knowledge to be seen among the villagers as their unofficial physician. Weak iodine tincture for disinfecting was among the bottles she picked out and pushed in his direction.

''No, no, I don't want to hear it,'' she cut through his reassurances and quiet tries to convince her that cough drops would truly not be necessary on a week's trip. ''You will thank me later. My boy, just take them with you, goodness me.''

In the end he was forced to oblige, and another knock sounded while he struggled to fit the six flasks he had grudgingly accepted into the saddlebag. To his surprise – and renewed dread – it was Rusl who entered the glowing radius of the hearth's fire, a sword and sheath in his hands as well as a bulging rupee pouch Link had not seen before at his belt. The smith looked somewhat flustered, not quite willing to meet Link's eyes, and his behaviour sparked Link's own unease; they had separated without another word after returning to the village.

Uli fixed her husband with a look that could have shattered rocks until Rusl, reddening, took a deep breath and extended the weapon. ''Harold insisted you should take his sword on your journey since, you know, you broke yours today, which is fine, don't worry about it, and I shouldn't have yelled at you because you were only trying to help and, really…'' He visibly composed himself, and hung his head. ''I was just worried about you. I'm truly sorry. I should not have spoken to you like I did.''

Link felt Uli's blistering gaze then linger on him, and he hastily accepted the blade. ''Thank you, and I'm sorry too, Rusl, for what I said. I didn't mean it.''

''There you go, was that so hard?'' Uli chuckled and drew them both into a hug. Link felt beyond silly, and he drew comfort in the fact that his surrogate father surely felt the same.

It was like a stone had been lifted from his heart, but he could not keep himself from easing his worries for good. He broke from the embrace and forced himself to meet his father's eyes. ''So… I'm truly allowed to leave for Hyrule then? Even after what happened… today?''

Rusl's brow lifted. ''Would Uli give you her precious medicine bottles if you weren't leaving? Would the mayor have made every one in Ordon cart their broken tools to my doorstep to be repaired first thing tomorrow morning? We've all accounted for your absence for at least a week, depending on how long you are willing to stay. I can't just step into everyone's plans just because you disobeyed my orders and nearly got yourself killed again.''

Uli tapped his chest and pulled a face. With a harrumph Rusl continued. ''What I really want to say is that I am very proud of you. Today you have proven that you are a true swordsman, and that I have taught you well. You deserve something better than this.''

He indicated Harold's blade, similar in quality to the weapon Link had smashed. From his belt he then retrieved the pouch and placed it into Link's hands. It jingled as Link slowly opened it, red light beaming from the fourteen shimmering red rupees that lay inside. His eyes went wide; they were worth a fabulous twenty rupees each. He let a few pour into his hand and watched them glisten in the crackling firelight of his hearth.

''It's too much,'' he said, looking up at his surrogate parents. ''I can't take them!''

''We insist,'' Rusl answered. ''Where you are going, you will need more than what you have saved up in your rupee chest. The road is long, you will need to buy more food on the way, and Epona will need shelter in Castle Town as well as you.''

Link had not thought about the price of his trip to Hyrule. With thirty rupees he would have made it to Palaguard and perhaps to one of the farming villages on the way to Castle Town before his funds had run out. Accommodation was beside buying food and fodder for a horse the next most expensive purchase, and in Hyrule, _everything_ was pricey. It was the one thing he begrudged the Hylians and where he thought without qualm like a true Ordonian; many hearty discussions with Rusl and eye-opening revelations about the scandalous prices of iron ore had seen to that.

But the pouch contained two hundred and eighty rupees, a small fortune.

''It is what we saved up for you over the years,'' Uli explained. ''That's what parents do. It is our job to make sure that you can start your life properly.''

''And the most renowned master smiths are in Castle Town,'' Rusl added, a trifle peevish. ''For a hundred rupees you can find a good one-hander there. It won't be folded steel, but it will be from your homeland. And it might even have some frivolity like gems in the pommel or an engraved ricasso, perhaps some embossing on the quillon–''

''Rusl,'' Uli snapped. ''Link may buy whatever he likes with his money.''

''Yes, yes.''

''Just because you do not value decorations–''

''Thank you, really,'' Link hastened to intervene. ''But I couldn't buy a sword that I knew you would not like, Rusl. I would much rather have a sword you made for me.''

''In the end it does not matter what you do with them,'' the blacksmith said. ''They are yours.''

At least now, everything was settled. Link could depart safely for Hyrule knowing that he and Epona would not starve, and even had enough money to bring back a keepsake. He still felt oddly like a thief accepting such a large sum – money that would have much better served Rusl and Uli and their yet unborn child. But receiving their first red rupees from their parents was as much a tradition among Ordonians as goat breeding, even if Link had not truly expected it, being – in his eyes – only a foundling. Fado had gotten the same amount from his parents before they died, and Moe had once told him that he still owned one of the fourteen red rupees he had received from Harold and Gertie for his coming of age.

But the best part was still to come. After Rusl and Uli had wished him a good night, he emptied the content of his new wallet onto the table. The fourteen red rupees looked magnificent as they fluoresced a bright crimson on the wood, the wealth in front of him causing him to stare. He then raced down the ladder to his basement, lighting a lantern and approaching the chest where he kept his modest savings embedded in the finest wool cloth he had found at Sera's.

For the gem-like currency presented a few peculiarities. Dependant on the value, rupees would display a certain colour and weight: the green rupee was worth one and fairly light, the blue worth five, the yellow worth ten and thus heavier in comparison. They were about as large as the yolk of an egg and harder than stone, yet when the need occurred they would either melt together like water drops in a puddle, or split apart without ever showing a fracture. Rupees changed their form and colour instantly, without prompt, whenever a business situation demanded it.

This complacent and convenient behaviour came at a price, however. Rupees were squeamish about the wallet or pouch they were kept in and shunned, for reasons yet to discover, any receptacle that either presented possible traces of neglect and shabbiness, or was deemed too small. One would fail miserably trying to fit ten silver rupees – worth two hundred each – into a wallet they felt fit for only nine, and the excess would fall out even if the pouch was tightly sealed and had space left for twenty more. It was unknown how they did it, for one had yet to see a rupee jump, but the danger was present and quite real. Traders willing to avoid the inconvenience of fleeing currency would ensure to store their rupees in special-made rupee wallets and refrain from excessive greed; their livelihood could very well depend on it.

Link locked the chest and returned to his table, hanging the lantern next to the crockery shelf. The rupees in his hand shone brighter as if sensing the presence of their comrades. But he wanted to see them live, and assemble before his very eyes. There was nothing more fascinating than seeing two rupees merge and become a new one.

He sat down at the table, looking briefly at his meagre economies of three yellow rupees. He jumped as two of them moved closer in his palm, melting in the blink of an eye to form a red one. The third golden jewel remained still.

Now, Link took the newborn crimson gem and placed it right in the middle of the fourteen others. His eyes shimmered in wonder as all the jewels began to glow on the table, preparing for the ultimate fusion. Suddenly they imploded in unison, and only a little pop was heard before the new rupee laid still in front of him.

The young Hylian chuckled in amazement. There laid a fiery gem of pure orange, pulsing with a heartbeat of light like red hot embers. He took it carefully, lifting his brows at the sheer weight it had. This one was worth the incredible sum of three hundred rupees, and he was its proud owner. It was the start of his fortune, his livelihood, his proof of maturity. His future.

At that moment he was perhaps not the richest Hylian in the world, but surely the happiest.

0

Through the little window, the first rays of sunlight danced into the house and illuminated the entire tree in the most beautiful shades of orange and white. As Link opened his eyes, he was blinded by a beam flowing across his face, making him blink. The day outside promised to be wonderful, as he noticed after drawing himself up and gazing out of the window. The spruces adjoining his yard swayed gently in the mild morning breeze, birds sang merrily to greet the sun rising in the east. As a gust of wind ruffled through his hair, he closed his eyes once more to enjoy its soft touch, filling his lungs entirely.

Then he remembered that Fado awaited him on the ranch at first sunlight, cursed softly, and jumped out of bed. While he was slipping into his baggy brown pants and white, sleeveless shirt and groping with his toes for his leather sandals, the booming voice of his master already drifted up to the window, calling him to work.

The morning dragged on so painfully slowly that Link had to busy himself with washing one goat after the other and polishing their striped, curved horn until it gleamed like greased leather. He passed a large bone comb through their long bluish fur, and was knocked over several times by the more capricious animals after attempting to scrub them behind the ears. Fado was doubling up by then and finally allowed his apprentice to leave at midday.

''Bugger aff awreddy, Ah cannae watch this onie mair!'' he roared amid brays of laughter. ''Mayor Bo shoods be ready tae meet ye by noo.''

Bo, Rusl, and Jaggle stood waiting by the mayor's large house, deep in conversation, while Ilia leaned on the porch railing and perked up as she saw Link trot down from the ranch. Jaggle was holding the finished shield in his wrinkly hands, wrapped carefully in oilskin. Rusl had his arms folded, a large scabbard strapped to his back.

''So, my son, it's finally time,'' he said as Link dismounted.

''It is,'' Link answered, not quite successful in containing his excited grin. ''So, is this the sword then?''

The blacksmith smiled and unsheathed the shimmering blade that would be Ordon's gift of loyalty to the royal family. It was a rustically crafted weapon with a solid steel cross-guard and a grip wrapped in leather. The pommel was fig-shaped, its only decoration a small hollow in the centre that caught the sunlight and made it gleam like a pearl. Staying true to his principles, Rusl had foregone the addition of ornaments and even a ricasso; it was a demanding weapon meant to be used as a one-hander only. Link stared at his father with admiration.

''You made this?''

Rusl nodded, handing him the blade. ''Here, this is what a real sword feels like.''

Link accepted the weapon and held it with two hands, the men flocking around him and murmuring approvingly. It was heavy, but not as much as he had expected. The leather wrapping felt warm and soft in his palm, the blade carefully counterbalanced by the weight of the pommel. He brought it to his nose and sniffed the handle. It smelled familiar.

''Ordon goat horn for the handle,'' Rusl said, and Link only beamed more.

They almost missed the heavy clomping arising from behind the gathering as well as hissed, mumbled words of anger. Bo was the first to turn and began to protest, causing the others to look up and notice Ilia trudging away with Epona in tow.

''Ilia! Where are you going?'' her father called.

She spun around and pointed an accusing finger at Link. ''Epona's _not _going! She's hurt and I'm taking her to the spring.''

Link frowned. ''What's she talking about?'' He handed the sword back to Rusl and dashed after Ilia; if he wanted to reach Palaguard before nightfall he would have to leave soon.

''Link, what have you done?'' Rusl called after him.

The young man only shrugged before sprinting after Ilia. She was now hurrying towards the exit of Ordon, Epona trotting calmly after her, and the few remaining residents ready to see Link off looked after them in wonder.

He caught up with her in front of his house. The children were there also, playing with Link's training puppet, and looked up the moment the two youths arrived. ''Oh, you're leaving already, Link?'' Beth asked, scrutinizing the bare saddle on Epona's back. ''Where's all your stuff?''

''You!'' Ilia yelled as Link grabbed her arm. ''You were jumping fences again, weren't you? Epona is hurt, you idiot! And you wanted to take her to Hyrule like that?''

''She's not hurt, I would have seen it!'' Link countered and positioned himself in front of his mare, spreading out his arms. ''You can't take her away now, I have to go.''

''Yeah, y_ou _have to go! What about Epona? What about me?!'' Ilia screamed, tossing her arms down in fury.

Link winced as her shrill scream hurt his sensible ears. The children flinched back, looking between them in turns.

''Ilia, I'll be gone for just a few days, then I'll come back, I promise,'' Link said calmly, taking a step in her direction. Ilia snorted and pulled on Epona's reins to stomp past Link. However, the red horse nickered and jerked her head into the air, jostling the reins out of Ilia's hand and stepping towards her master.

The fair-haired girl watched her as the mare nudged him, her angry countenance dissipating to be replaced by sadness.

''You still prefer Link over me then, Epona?'' she said, lowering her head in shame.

''She doesn't, Ilia, but she's confident that it'll be all right,'' Link answered.

He patted Epona's neck before stepping towards Ilia and placed his hands on her shoulders.

''I'll be back before you can even start to miss me, Ilia.'' To his surprise she wrapped her long, thin arms around his waist and nuzzled into his chest. His heart felt pleasantly warm.

''Please take care of yourself,'' she murmured. ''Just come home safely…''

The Hylian smiled as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. But through her worry soon emerged the sly grin he knew so well from her.

''I'll do my best,'' Link answered, mirroring her smirk.

She punched him lightly in the stomach before stepping back. ''In that case, I have something for you–''

She broke off as Epona suddenly whinnied and began sauntering nervously. Link rushed towards her and grabbed the reins, caressing her muzzle to calm her. But the horse backed away from him, spooked.

A cloud passed by overhead and caused the sun to briefly disappear. The chilly wind rose and swept through the branches, making them shudder. Link tried in vain to calm his mare, when his feet began to perceive a queer sensation on the earthy ground. At the same time, a low rumbling arose in the distant forest.

''What is that?'' Talo's voice rang out, sounding oddly muffled by the droning which came nearer still. Link handed the panicky horse to Ilia and carefully stepped to the gate that lead out of Ordon. The ground was now quaking faintly beneath his sandals and made him look at his feet worriedly.

''I don't know. Go back to the village–'' He could not speak further, for his voice was suddenly cut off by a gurgling shriek in the coppice, followed by the droning approaching and morphing into the sound of galloping hooves.

The girls shrieked as a shadow was cast over Link. He could only stare at the gigantic black beasts crashing through the gate and lunging at him. He dodged the enormous thrashing legs on pure instinct.

Green creatures with glowing red eyes stared at him from astride the beasts, their faces partly hidden behind dark veils. The children's screams of terror echoed in the spruces and swept into Ordon Village like a nightmarish chant.

000


	5. Chapter 4

_**Author's note:** This is definitely a deletion rewrite. When I first wrote this chapter I apparently could not stop adding action steps (he did this, then he did this, then he did that...), steps that were perhaps true to the game but unnecessary to narration. So out with them! I kept the bare minimum, spiced up some descriptions, sped up the time it took Link to realize he is a wolf (you look at your own body more often than you think) and made Midna's dialogue both shorter and more akin to her character (really, the first cutscene with her is pretty much perfect, so what's to change?). Definitely not my favourite chapter, but it gets stuff out of the way. Moving on._

**Chapter 4**

The screams echoed in the mountains. They reverberated against the barn, the houses, the trees, the mill, the hill, and the fences before they reached Rusl's ears and let him freeze right where he was.

He turned to the mayor who stood like petrified on the planks of his porch. ''The children?'' he stammered.

Then more screams arose, lower than those coming from Link's yard. The villagers gathered by the exit had turned around and fled before a creature Rusl had never seen before. Scarcely resembling an oversized boar, the monster that came galloping into the town wore a skin in a dirty brown patched with grey, and sliced the air with lance-like horns. Its glowing red eyes beamed above its dribbling muzzle.

However, it was what rode on top of it that caught the blacksmith's eye and made him stare. Wielding a bow and a heavy club, green and veiled, a creature with similar eyes than the boar's was crouched over a massive saddle and drove its mount onward. As soon as it noticed the men standing at the mayor's house, it lifted a claw into the sky and screeched a gurgling war bellow that briefly drowned out the children's intensifying shrieks.

''Link!'' Rusl roared as he drew the very sword he had made for the king, and dashed forward to meet the attackers. Bo and Jaggle grabbed whatever farming tools they could lay their hands on and followed, bellowing along with him.

0

Link did not know where to look.

Boars and their riders stomped about hacking at whatever stood in their way; everywhere he turned to he saw animal skin, horns, hooves. Blooming bushes that had framed his yard and adorned the border to the forest were torn to shreds, trees spewed their bark from vicious strikes and bared their tender inner coat. His small vegetable garden he had painstakingly tended to day after day was trampled and overturned. Somewhere, he heard Epona's frantic neigh.

Then he caught sight of two forms fleeing before the raised club of a rider. He made out Ilia's long white shirt and Colin's blond hair disappear behind a spruce, the attacker on the pursuit. Roaring out Link dashed forward, groping for Harold's sword on his back, and hacked at the boar's sides with all the ferocity he could muster. The animal turned to him in its blind rage, its rider shrieking.

''Link,'' he heard Ilia's whisper. Colin had his face pressed into her chest and was silent with terror, but Link could see him shake. He took up stance before them and raised his weapon protectively. His hand felt slick and his arm trembled. The boar towered high above him, so much larger than the wild creatures he had hunted in the forest. A horrible thought flashed through his mind; what if they had come to avenge their smaller brethren fallen at the tip of his arrows?

He did not see the shadow swinging at him from the right until it was too late. The club hit him hard on the head and briefly drowned out all sound. He found himself on the ground, his cheek buried in the dense grass and prickly ferns. His ears rang with high-pitched whistling. The sky and the earth were swimming into one blurry mass of colour, but before him he could see large moving shapes. The outlines of a cart, a boar tethered to it. Green abominations scurrying around holding wriggling bundles that emitted that abhorrent whistling. The bars of a large wooden cage.

His eyes were forced shut by the intense nausea that overcame him. Only the deep, droning sound of a large horn awoke him long enough to see its owner stand by the caged cart. It was astride a mighty, blue boar coated in armour, matching with its own horns the long ones of its mount. Sickly green skin covered it from head to toe, fat composed its huge belly, wrinkles adorned its ugly head. Its red eyes were glowing and much too small for its full-cheeked face. Silently, it contemplated the content of the cage.

Then the ogre licked its lips with a beastly grin before driving its mount onward. The wagon and the other boars rumbled over the earth behind their leader, their screeches and hisses echoing around the once idyllic paradise that Ordon had been.

The first thing Link perceived was the cold hovering around him. No sunlight oozed through the dark sky, the cold wind chilling his bare arms. He noticed the absence of birdsong next, but it was the intense pain in his head that finally roused him completely.

He sat up and cradled his pounding skull, glancing around him to take in the mess. Grass was torn from hooves and clubs, branches and leaves were scattered all over the place, and his training puppet laid in a heap around the tree trunks close to him. He moaned as he tried to remember what had happened, how he had come to be at the edge of his yard half-buried in the undergrowth, when suddenly he heard cracking branches and the screeches of the monsters echoing out of the forest.

They were still close. He picked himself up, squeezed his eyes shut to stem the overwhelming dizziness, and stumbled towards the sound. Gradually his vision cleared, allowing him to move faster.

The children. Where were the children?

He began to run. The trampling was becoming fainter with every second, urging him onward. The forest path was a wreck and littered with gouges and prints, so it was easy to follow the trace of the kidnappers. Link felt his own heartbeat hurt in his chest. His intense fear still pounded through his body with every step he took. As he briefly stopped by a tree to catch his breath, he felt the bark of the oak crumble beneath his palm and realized that his body was quaking like a dancing bee. He had never been more afraid in his entire life, but the thought of Ilia and the children trapped in the cage, whimpering with fear, goaded him onward. Through the smashed gate he ran into the woods of Faron.

His arms and neck began prickling at the intense sensation of wrongness that arose as he approached. The soil had become dark with shadows creeping from the coppice onto the path. They were black, completely black, obsidian rays drifting over the earth like fog in a plain, seeming to reach out and grab every blade of grass, every pebble they could get, and consume it. As Link cautiously made his way along the trail, the air around him began to vibrate. It became stronger the further he walked, until he had to cover his sensible ears.

Then the road before him disappeared. Link stopped short as he saw the earth no more, only the charcoal fog creeping over the spot that had once been the junction to the Southern Road. The pole with the six signs had vanished, engulfed in the haze which, as Link slowly let his stare wander upwards, loomed up large to form a gigantic wall of blackness. He could not hear his own yell of shock that was drowned by the vibrating air. He stared into the pulsing darkness criss-crossed by golden lines that slowly appeared at his approach. Patterns formed and coated the immense wall, fluttering with the unnatural substance that moved like gently stirred water. Link could not stop staring; his entire being was trapped in the mesmerizing aura of black, was pulled towards it yet at the same time repelled by his very core.

He was so utterly lost in terror at the sight of the giant wall that he did not see it coming. His chords vibrated once before his throat was enclosed, a sticky mass of snake-like limbs winding themselves around his neck. At once they tugged at him, lifted him off the ground and pulled him right into the black. He felt a harsh cold the moment he passed the curtain of darkness, his body engulfed by the wafting fog and burning like hellfire at the touch. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth while the strange, enormous hand pulled him into another world.

The moment he looked again, all was different. He wailed as he was confronted by a horrendous, monumental face, black with no sockets, no mouth, only bulging patterns that covered it like a mask. It was gripping him in its massive claw, holding him up into the sky as if inspecting him. Link choked, struggling in its grip, the serpent fingers of the monster clutching him by the throat and sealing every possible income of air. The atmosphere around him, too, was pressing and pushing itself around his body, shooting dots of blackness onto his skin, piercing it and slowly invading every inch of his being. He felt the foreign shards enter his veins, his muscles, his bones, his very heart which they bombarded angrily, squeezing the light out. He screamed as the agony intensified, his body twitching under the pressure of the air.

The monster held him away a little and watched the youth being tortured all on his own.

0

From a little distance, the black beast and the writhing Hylian were intently watched.

A yellow-red iris pierced the dark vibrating air, a subtle smirk spread over a black mouth parted only by a single protruding fang. The one eye widened as the scene down below changed, the resolute smile stretching with joy. Delighted it watched how the hallowed symbol on the boy's left hand flared up and blinded the colossal creature with its golden light, making it recoil and toss its prey to the ground. The boy continued to twitch and jolt, moan and scream, now crouching on all fours with the illuminated triangle still shining frantically.

At once the little man changed. His legs elongated, teeth as well as nails sharpening inside his skin sprouting with fur. His back bulged, his head widened, his nose grew, his spine stretched, a tail formed, all accompanied by his yells of pain that slowly but surely turned raucous, guttural, and beastly.

Before the single eye of the observer a wolf howled into the orange sky, its eyes rolling back with agony, before it collapsed to the ground and remained still, the golden triangle slowly turning grey once more.

The figure in the shadows smiled with satisfaction. That was what she had been looking for; a grey wolf trapped in Twilight, helpless and unknowing. She watched on as the shadow beast took one of the wolf's hind leg in its serpentine fingers, gazed up at the sky, and then slowly fragmented into tiny shards of black to join the other masses hovering around. The wolf split as well, and a childish giggled escaped her at the complete ignorance of this poor Hylian trapped in a beastly body. How she loved it when everything went according to plan. Now she would just have to track down their whereabouts, and the poor little wolf would be hers.

0

''Link!'' Rusl bellowed as soon as he arrived in the destroyed yard. ''Colin!''

''Talo! Malo! Where ur ye?'' Jaggle joined in behind him before shouting out at the state of the clearing. ''Gracioos Nayru! Whit happened haur?''

Only Link's treehouse remained intact, the rest had been demolished to smithereens. The small garden where the Hylian had lovingly sowed radishes, carrots, and cabbage for everyday cooking lay in a mess of earth next to his home. The protective gate out into the wild was completely destroyed, as was Epona's stable. Hay lay strewn all over the place along with grain, dung, and straw. Rusl gasped as he crouched down, gingerly running a hand over the bloodied edge of Harold's sword laying abandoned in the grass.

He ran a hand over his face. ''Oh no… my son…''

''Dear Farore, Link will be pleased…'' Hanch, Beth's father, mumbled from behind. The smith turned to him sharply.

''Don't you see? The children have been taken, you fool!''

''We must search for them at once!'' Bo said behind them. ''Hanch, go and see if your daughter is in the village.''

At those words the soft-minded Hanch seemed to notice the true gravity of the situation. Everyone could see his brain jump into motion, making him jerk. ''Beth? She was here with the others all the time. Beth! Where are you?!''

Rusl took the ensuing silence as his cue and dashed into the forest, his sword held ready. Jaggle and Moe followed, and Bo ran back to the village with the hysterical Hanch in tow.

The men had arrived in the yard only a few moments after Link had been dragged into the black wall that still towered ominously at the junction to the Southern Road. ''Din help us…'' Rusl murmured, staring at the monument, holding his ears against the deafening noise.

But he was quickly driven out of his stupor as Jaggle yelled out. The smith turned to see a pair of glowing green eyes float out of the coppice, followed by another, then another. The monsters ploughed into him and pelted him with blows until he was driven to the ground.

''Rusl!'' Jaggle roared and sliced at the neck of the nearest bokoblin with his sickle. The monster gurgled, dark blood spurting out it its mouth and spraying onto Rusl's chest. The smith groaned in disgust while kicking the carcass away but was sent back to the earth by a second beast jumping on him from the side.

Moe came to his aid with his axe while Jaggle swung his weapon at the rest of them. To Rusl's misfortune the black-haired farmer was not a skilled fighter, his strike intended for the bokoblin instead burying the axe in a nearby trunk. The creature took its chance, hacking at Rusl with its sharp rake and cutting a few deep gashes in his side. It was Jaggle who finished it off by slicing its throat.

''Rusl, ye aw reit?'' he asked and crouched down, Moe pulling the cadaver away from the smith. Rusl was panting heavily while he held a trembling hand to his side. It was bleeding profusely.

''Oh Farore…'' Moe mumbled, running a hand over his face.

''Do you see the children?'' Rusl grunted, but Jaggle shook his head.

''Nae sign of them. They must hae bin taken deeper intae th' woods. Aam sorry, Rusl.''

The blacksmith motioned for them to help him up. ''We have to search for them.''

''Rusl, ye're injured,'' the carpenter stopped him. ''Let's gie ye tae Uli, we'll swatch fur th' bairns ance yoo're patched up.''

''But Link…'' Rusl groaned while the men half walked, half carried him back to Ordon. ''He ran after them… I saw his trace.''

''Link has probably bin taken an aw.''

''No, he ran after them, he must still be around. Link!'' Rusl called, nearly dislodging himself from Jaggle's and Moe's arms.

It was only with great effort that the two farmers brought their blacksmith back to Ordon. Clouds had overtaken the sky above the disturbed villagers who were gathered around Bo's house. The mayor was busy calming his shouting townsfolk as the three men came stumbling along the path.

''Darling!'' Uli called as soon as she saw her husband bloodied and weary in the farmers' arms. She hurried to him as quickly as her pregnancy allowed.

''Have you found the children?'' Bo asked. Jaggle and Moe shook their heads, and all hearts of Ordon sank.

0

Blackness. Total blackness. Behind Link's eyelids, and in his mind black with unconsciousness. Even as it slowly fell away from him and greeted his other senses, it did not make that much of a difference. The scent of water, salpetre, algae, and dust, with a dominant side of old stones and rusty metal, wafted around him. But another smell that seemed much too near embraced his nose. What was it? Saliva, wet fur… Dog?

He knew he was in some sort of dungeon with a sewer close by, but he could not remember how he got there. Had those monsters taken him after all and locked him away? Rusl had told him once that, when someone was arrested, they were locked in a dark room behind metal bars and left alone for the duration of their punishment. That thought left him wondering what atrocity he could have possibly committed to deserve such a fate.

He was lying on his side. As he tried to move, he felt his entire body ache terribly. What had happened to him that made him feel so sore?

His lids finally managed to separate, revealing the small prison cell bathed in an unfamiliar orange glow. The air was vibrating ever so gently and buzzing like the wings of an insect, but softer; he could only compare it to the glimmering of hot air on a stone in summer. Everywhere tiny quadrants of a black substance floated around, always vertically, spinning like a wind wheel in slow-motion. He stared after them for a long while but decided that he could not explain what they were, and let his attention drift away. A lone lantern shone dimly in a wet corridor outside his cell. No one was there, no guard or green, veiled monster that had invaded Ordon. If there was truly no one, then perhaps he could at least have a look around and find out where he was.

He felt rather warm despite lying on the cold stone floor. Had his kidnappers truly been as kind to wrap him in a blanket before imprisoning him? This seemed rather banal. But then, why did he not shiver with cold?

A jingling echoed against the walls as he began moving, followed by slight pain in his left wrist. He did not need to look at it to know he was in shackles. He brought his arms close and attempted to wrap them around himself. They did not, however, do what he wanted. His bones and muscles tensed at the usually familiar motion until he had his lower arms close to his chest. But his elbows just would not go outwards.

He brought his hands up and looked at them. A pair of ferocious, grey paws with razor sharp claws filled his vision, and he screamed. What came out of his throat instead was a piercing, shrill whine of terror. He felt for his chest, touched more fur, barked out and paddled with his arms and legs until he had come to a crouch. Now at last he saw his body, his own body covered in grey-green fur. He began breathing hard. He tried to stand up, but his legs did not listen to him. The shackle around his left arm chinked loudly as he thrashed about and moved back in panic, coming to an abrupt halt as the chain stretched and restrained him.

_No no no! This can't be!_ he thought. _This is just a dream! Just a dream!_

He rolled himself to a ball, retreating as far from the bars as he possibly could. His whole furry body was trembling with fear and disbelief, making his bonds rattle. He could not prevent himself from weeping, cries that turned to miserable whimpers in his beastly throat. The prison cell remained cold and muffling, the black speckles flying around him with silent indifference.

''Poor little beast. Where are you?''

The high-pitched voice echoed through the corridor and made him quieten. He looked up at the bars where the sound had come from, and saw a small, dark silhouette that slowly approached and became clearer.

He ran his look along a pair of black and white legs. Compared to his own they were fairly small and short, yet clearly feminine. He traced the body further and made out broad hips, a flat belly, and long, very long arms criss-crossed with turquoise, glowing lines. She wore no clothes yet did not look naked. At last he gazed into a single eye, yellow and red, the other one seeming to be covered by a strange black headdress. The creature wore a cheeky grin, a lone tooth sticking out of her mouth. She did not look human at all.

Suddenly she jumped high into the air and landed mere inches before him. Propelling her face forward, she laughed out. ''Found you!''

Before he could stop himself, his head lowered and he began growling.

''Oh dear me, look at you being all scary,'' she sneered and folded her arms. Link realized she was only as tall as a four-year-old, but her whole being seemed to pulse with a strange aura of menace. Her head was much too broad for her body, the black crown upon it crushing her. Yet she stood as tall and unhindered as if she wore nothing.

''Are you sure you want to be doing that? Snarling and glaring at me?'' Suddenly she sounded threatening. ''Well that's too bad. I was planning on helping you, if you were nice…''

Link silenced and looked at her with hope. Her demeanour changed once again in the blink of an eye. ''Hehe, you Humans are so obedient. Oh, but you're not a Human any more, you're a beast!'' She giggled and left Link standing with ghastly surprise.

She knew he was not supposed to be a wolf. But how?

Link backed away as the imp leaned forward, her stubby nose very near to his, and took a hold of his jaw. Piercing him with her gaze, she murmured slyly. ''I can get you out of here, but there's a price, my little wolf. Once free, you'll do exactly as I say.''

Link tried to turn away, but she simply squeezed harder. Her hand was unusually strong for her size. ''Now now, are we losing our submission already? Agree, and I'll get you out of here. Don't, and I'm gone and I won't come back. What do you say, beast?''

With a last wriggle Link managed to free himself. He nodded, looking sceptically at the shackle that enclosed his left paw and was firmly fastened to the stone floor by a large chain. The creature chuckled. ''What an obedient little wolf, hehe. Now hold still.''

She pulled her hands together, lowering her head and concentrating. Link watched how a red ball of flame formed between her palms, growing larger before being tossed at the chain attached to the shackle. The magic collided with the metal that hissed upon impact and began to glow red as it heated up. Link whined, trying to move away from the burning steel, but the creature ran over to him and held him still.

''I said don't move!'' she hissed.

The magic burnt its way through the metal that eventually ran down to the stone tiles. She promptly grabbed the chain as the fire was halfway through and pulled at it, making Link move along with her. The links snapped open, setting him free.

''At least you can follow orders. That's a start,'' she said, turning away as if nothing had happened. Link growled to himself, shaking his free paw where the shackle still hung with a bit of chain attached.

The imp now turned to the rusty bars and burned two of them away. As Link approached, he looked suspiciously at the hole.

''Well? You'll have to squeeze through, I won't make it bigger just for you,'' she said, turned around and suddenly began floating into the air. Link looked up in wonder, following her with his gaze. She did not possess any kind of wings, only that enormous black crown on her head. As she turned around and scowled at him with arms folded, he quickly set his attention back to the bars.

With a lot of difficulty and a few lost tufts of fur he eventually managed it out into the corridor. Walking in his beastly form was strange but quite intuitive; the ground was now so near to him that he felt only half as tall even though the rest of his body was larger than his Human form. Additionally he now had a tail which, thankfully, moved of its own accord whenever he made a step, counterbalancing his weight by swaying left and right without the need to control it so that, soon, he forgot all about it.

Slowly, he approached the black and white creature that stood at the end of the corridor, glancing around a corner.

''Shush, get back, someone's coming!'' she hissed.

Link's long ears could perceive a door being opened a distance away, followed by shuffling feet and a gurgling throat. He quickly trotted after the hovering imp into the cell next to his own where the guards had left the gate open.

Inside, he heard water burbling away silently. It was coming from a little barred hole in the ground. The imp was busy melting those away while Link glanced down into a quick stream. One after the other she snapped the bars away, and as the path was clear her fingers grabbed his ear. ''Follow me, and don't you dare make a run for it, I've got my eye on you.''

Link yelped as she shoved him right into the hole. His still unsure feet collided harshly with the tunnel's slippery bottom, and instantly he was taken by the strong current that pushed him down the slope. Dirty water washed over him, made him retch and cough and shudder. The imp was soon hovering in his line of sight above him, her small form not catching one single droplet of the brackish water.

They landed in a larger basin where Link was briefly dunked. Quickly he paddled to the ledge and heaved himself out, retching. His thick fur was now plastered against his body and had intensified its stench to near unbearable putridness. He shook himself, sending a rain of droplets against the walls and even the scowling imp who hovered nearby. She growled angrily while drifting away, wiping the water off of her skin. ''Very good. Are you done?'' she asked, rolling her eyes at him before landing on her bare feet and walking along the ledge.

Link followed with his head hanging low, trying vainly to endure his own state of foulness. As he watched the creature walk in front of him, he took a better look at the headdress she was wearing; the black crown was composed of two parts, one round cylinder that held the entire piece rooted to the imp's broad head, the other shaped like two long thin horns atop a wider, rectangular base. What he noticed as well was her orange, thick hair hanging out of the headdress, bound together by a metal ring at the base. As the imp briefly halted and looked back at him to make sure he was still following, he saw the front, horned piece of her crown decorated with countless lines and patterns, all dominated by two snake-like, bulging stripes covering the horns and meeting on the forehead.

The part covering the imp's left eye was, ironically, shaped and carved like an eye itself that stared at him every time the creature turned around. He felt daunted by that large crown on her head and wondered why she was wearing it at all. What race she was – with her black and white body, glowing turquoise lines and exceedingly long ears that stuck out of her head nearly perpendicularly – he could not tell either. All he knew was that she spoke Hylian nearly perfectly, with just a small trace of a foreign accent to be discerned.

The path in front of them was slippery from the moisture of the current following to their right. He had no idea where they were heading, and even less where they were in the first place. Sewers like these did not exist in Ordon, and the closest thing to a dungeon he had once visited was the keep of Palaguard Castle where his surrogate father had once been commissioned to replace the prison bars.

''I would like you to meet someone, little wolf,'' his companion said as they arrived in a larger space with a set of winding stairs moving hand over hand up a circular tower. The sewer seemed to turn here, for the current emptied itself in a round basin and was diverted into another tunnel to his left. A small stone bridge lead over the stream and to the base of the stairs where the imp was waiting for him.

''She's to blame for all this mess, that girl,'' the imp continued.

_Which mess?_ Link thought. _The fact that I'm a wolf now? _How he wished he could speak and ask her exactly what had happened.

''She's in a tower way up there, so you better hurry up. We shouldn't keep her Highness waiting, hehe!''

Suddenly, the little creature jumped right on top of his back and tapped his sides with her minuscule feet as if he were a horse. He barked and threw his body about to get her off of him, but the imp just folded her arms and laughed, perfectly rooted in place.

''Now now, calm down you stupid beast!'' she called and pulled harshly on his ear. The pain issuing from her clutch made Link whimper and crouch down involuntarily. ''Have you forgotten what we agreed on? I'm tired of walking, so you're going to carry me to that tower.'' Her feet pounded his sides again while she released him, and Link glared at her. He was slowly getting tired of her patronizing manners.

But he did not complain further. Gulping down his pride he started up the stairs with the pestering imp on his back, and was thankful that she was not very heavy.

The stairs led into what looked like the top of the tower. It was empty but for a few crates, and through a large hole in the roof rain dropped in from above. Link glanced up and wondered if that hole was there on purpose, or if the roof had been damaged. Seeing the rubble on the grated floor, he went with the latter.

''Why are we stopping?'' the imp inquired. The wolf cast her a puzzled look before gazing about the room. There was no exit except for a closed door in front of him. Hesitating he stood before it, the handle out of his reach unless he managed to stand on his hind legs.

''Uh, do I really have to do _everything_?'' the creature groaned just has he was musing on how much of a fool he would feel trying to open that door. She hopped from Link's back and turned the handle. ''Now hurry up, I want to get out of here.'' He just sighed and stepped through the door where he was greeted by heavy wind and rain tapping against his body.

He was standing on a tiled floor with low walls to either sides and the open sky above him glowing in a bright orange. The small, rectangular particles of black still floated around everywhere and encircled him, stinging a little every time they brushed past his fur.

''Uh, I just hate this stuff,'' came the imp's quiet, angry reply from behind his head, and he glanced back at her to see her wipe the rain off of her face and arms.

Lowering himself on his front legs, he squinted through the foggy rain to make out the path, then headed off. He did not see much around him except the tiles and parts of the walls to his left and right. His musings renewed about where he could possibly be, and he counted the locations he had already been to; first in a dungeon, then in a sewer, and now on what seemed to be an immensely long stone bridge. This had to be the castle in Palaguard, for nowhere else in the southern provinces had he seen such colossal stone monuments. He knew the fortress had four thick circular towers and a fifth, square one dominating the centre court, which was surely the tower his companion wanted him to reach.

Yet, as he trotted along what he presumed to be the battlements, he noticed that they were abnormally long, much longer than the ones in Palaguard. In the foggy air dusted with rain drops, he could barely make out long, thin shadows reaching into the sky, and the roof below continuing into the unknown. If this was not Palaguard's castle, which castle was it then?

Soon, the tower in question appeared out of the dark, foggy air and loomed above him. As he had by now expected, it was not square like the one in Palaguard, but bulky and round with a broken wood door leading inside. He passed the threshold and the stormy wind calmed to blissful silence. The walls looked old and weathered despite being sheltered from the elements by a wooden ceiling towering somewhere above him in the darkness. It was quiet, cold and unsettling; it made him shiver.

Another winding staircase lead up, and an excited tap against his sides from the imp motioned him onward. Soon a wide, wooden double door appeared in front of them, half open. He heard his rider snicker as he pushed himself into the room.

In the shadows by the window stood someone. His fur answered his fear by ruffling while he lowered on his front legs and began to growl. A fireplace to his right crackled dimly and did little to warm the chamber, yet its light danced on the cloaked figure that stood in front of the glass, staring outside. He did not know how to feel about the stranger, for something radiated out of them that was both familiar and threatening at the same time.

''Well, hello again, my dear,'' the imp said, causing the lone figure at the window to turn around sharply. The hood hid most of the features but for the outlines of a young, very feminine mouth and chin. Link hurried to compose himself. The black cloak she wore made her look taller, bulkier, but now that he could see her, she did not seem dangerous in any way.

''Back so soon, Midna?'' the young woman asked, her voice oddly low and mature. ''I see you found the one you sought.''

The imp, chuckling childishly, leaned back and regarded the figure with satisfaction. ''You remembered my name. I should be honoured.''

The woman gave a slow nod. ''I have a good memory.''

Midna's small hand reached around to ruffle through Link's fur. ''I found him indeed. He's not quite what I had in mind, but I guess he'll have to do.''

The woman lowered her veiled face to look at Link, showing no reaction to Midna's last reply. Link found himself staring into the maiden's sapphire eyes, eyes that looked so worn, so hopeless and mournful that he had to blink. He had never seen so much sadness on a woman's features before.

''You were imprisoned?'' The dull irises wandered to his left paw where a little blood had crusted over the iron shackle. She remained quiet, her hands clasped loosely in her lap.

''I'm sorry,'' she said at last.

''Poor little wolf, he has no idea what has happened, or where he is,'' Midna chimed in and sounded dreadfully ironic. ''I thought that, before we go, you'd like to talk to him. You know, tell him what a great monarch you are, and what you'vemanaged to do as such, hehe. Being the one he is, he deserves to know at least some of it. Don't you think so, my TwilightPrincess?''

Link could sense the tension rise in the chamber. For a moment, the woman in front of him did not reply, and only Midna's quiet giggles could be heard in the vibrating air. He tried to find sense in the imp's words, but to him nothing made sense any longer. What was this all about? What on Din's holy earth had happened to him?

As the veiled figure spoke up at last, her voice remained calm and sad and unfazed by Midna's obvious try to provoke her. ''Listen carefully, wolf. This land in which you stand now, this very castle that I called home, was once the great kingdom where the power of the Goddesses was said to slumber. This was once the kingdom of Hyrule.''

Link could not help but stumble. Midna on top of him clung to his fur painfully, but more agonizing was what this mysterious woman told him. He was in Hyrule, the very kingdom he had dreamed about and had wanted to visit for as long as he could remember. And now she said that it was no more.

The woman seemed to notice his shock, for she looked at him with silent sympathy. ''Hyrule, you must know, is not what it was any more. It has been overrun by a powerful king who rules the Twilight. In his desire to govern our beloved world, he has turned Hyrule into a realm of shadows.''

Her voice broke at the last word, but she regain the upper hand on her feelings before they made a noteworthy appearance. ''Dipped in this Twilight, bereaved of Light, Hyrule's people became spirits. They live on in this form, unaware that they have passed into a spectre life. All they know now is fear, fear of a nameless Evil unseen yet felt in the air.''

She turned again, glancing out of the window at the orange glow in the sky. Link followed her gaze, looked for the sun or even the moon, but no such orb was present. Not even a single star.

The cloaked figure addressed him once more, this time moving her gloved hands up to the hood. ''Hyrule has fallen to the shadows, but I remain its princess.''

Link could not believe his eyes as the figure finally revealed her face. She was very young, not much older than himself, and strikingly beautiful. Her eyes were as blue as an afternoon sky on a cloudless summer day, her face pale like the moonlight. Hazelnut hair embraced a magnificent, golden tiara, its centre piece a deep blue stone that throned over her forehead. Despite her young looks, her eyes were clouded and tired, worn by the worry and despair she had witnessed. Link could only stare as she looked back down at him, her Hylian ears cocking a little as her lips faded into a minuscule, weary smile.

''I am Zelda, daughter of King Gustaf and heir to the throne of Hyrule. To save my people, I surrendered to the king of shadows who transformed this land into a netherworld.''

''You needn't say that in such a regretting tone, princess,'' Midna broke through the moment and cut short Link's struggle to believe he was standing before the very princess of Hyrule. ''I mean, I find it quite liveable, this perpetual Twilight. And because of those powers of yours you did not transform into a spirit either, so why be so sad? You should be happy to be still alive.''

Link found himself growling at her. How dare she speak to the Hyrulean princess in this manner? Yet he quickly stopped after remembering his own first reaction towards the cloaked sovereign.

''Midna, I would give my life to see the Light returned to this land,'' Zelda said. ''I do not fully understand your reasons to side with us, but you have to be on your guard. The shadow beasts have been searching far and wide for you.''

Midna lifted from Link's back to hover a little distance above them, turning around and laying her chin in her palm as if pouting. Zelda watched her with a questioning look. ''Why is that so, Midna?''

''Well, what do I know?'' the imp replied sarcastically. ''You tell me, princess.'' She plopped back onto Link, causing him to puff from the impact.

Zelda locked eyes with him once more, feeding him a little welcomed reassurance. He wanted to smile, but upon trying his teeth bared in a hideous, threatening snarl, causing him to snort and shake his head in shame.

''Time has grown short, the guard will soon be here to check on me. Wolf!'' the princess called as Midna spurted Link towards the door once more. He turned around and glanced at the cloaked woman.

''Speak with the Light Spirits, they will explain everything. And be careful on your way.''

Link had no idea what she meant, but he nodded nonetheless. With a last glance at his princess, he blinked once before running out of her dark prison cell.

As he found himself in the tower once more, Midna pulled on his ears and made him stop. ''Wait!'' she hissed. ''The guard's coming!''

From down the winding staircase, he could hear a door being opened as well as feet pit-patting on the stone tiles as it mounted the steps. Midna caught his attention by flying out of an opening a few feet above his head, and he followed quickly. As he stepped into the orange radiance with the black particles flying around, he took a good glance at his surroundings. The rain had stopped, now finally revealing to him the largest, mightiest stone building that Hylians had ever created; this was Hyrule Castle, not doubt.

''So, my little wolf. Know where we are now?'' Midna said as he slowly walked along the tiled roof towards her. ''Quite impressive, isn't it? Hyrule, the big, wealthy, powerful kingdom has fallen into Twilight. Hehe, how ironic. Well, I said I'll get you out of here, so a promise is a promise. Not all of Hyrule has fallen into shadows yet, and I'm sure you want to get out of this wolf body, do you not?''

Link jumped at her words. He would be himself once again?

''But don't forget, you're still my servant. I'll be watching you all the time, beast. All the time.''

The world began to spin. He felt cold enshroud his body while his feet lifted, the stinging black speckles now bombarding him from all sides. They surrounded his limbs, poked his tail and pressed themselves into his fur, slowly but surely hammering it to pieces. All became black as they entered his eyes, hollowing them out. Before he knew it, he was already gone.

000


	6. Chapter 5

_**Author's note:**_ _There's not too much to say about this chapter; I heavily edited the narration, cleaned up the action scenes, removed the excess of detail, condensed everything to get on with the story. There's a lot happening in this chapter, and I hope I have found a good balance of description and action to make it interesting to read._

**Chapter 5**

''Whoops, here we go!''

Midna's strangely resonant voice accompanied Link's painful landing into cracking wood and rotting leaves. He crashed through a fallen tree branch, rolled down a small hill and came to a halt with his nose poking a large mushroom stump. Panting, he drew himself up and looked around himself; Castle Town and its many stone towers had vanished. The air was clean and free of black speckles – just breathing in the sweet scent of moss and moist earth made him shudder with delight. The blackness of the night and the hooting of owls enshrouded the forest where, before, Twilight had clouded the world in a sombre half-light.

_I'm back,_ he thought, and attempted to dust himself off. Instead, his body shook all by itself, sending bits of earth and leaves flying against the tree trunks. Looking down at himself and finding the now familiar wolf paws and tufts of grey-white fur on his chest, a frightened whine escaped him.

He turned around to where the voice of his imp companion had come from. _Show yourself you lying scum,_ he barked angrily.

A giggle resonated behind him. ''Hehe, well look what we have here! A little Human trapped in a wolf's body, in the middle of the Light World full of hunters and predators. Whatever happened here?''

He growled at her but paused as he noticed the imp's abnormal appearance. She had turned pitch black and oddly transparent as if her shadow had been ripped from the ground and taken on a physical form. But his anger towards her was stronger than reason. He tensed his hind-legs and jumped at her with a loud, furious bark. _I've had enough of you!_

Midna stood as still as a rock while he pounded into her, arms folded and her one eye glowing in the moonlight. Link whimpered as he tumbled back to the ground behind the imp and buried his nose in the same mushroom stump.

''I'm afraid you won't be able to do that any more. Unlike you, I lose my body in the Light World.''

Link stared at her, his eyes now reflecting more disappointment than anger. She leaned over him, arms still folded. ''Well, it seems you did not transform back like I said. What a shame. But at least you're back in your lazy little village. And look! No Twilight here yet.''

At her words Link perked up. He sniffed the air and recognized the smell of straw and spruce; he had landed in the small area right behind his tree house. _Rusl_, he thought. _He will recognize me by my earrings. He'll know what to do._

''Hey! Where're you going?'' Midna called as he dashed forward into the coppice. ''Have you lost your mind? They will hunt you down!''

But Link ignored her and passed the destroyed gate into the village, stopping abruptly to take in the mess.

The path was trampled, sporting deep hoof marks, and not a single pumpkin patch remained unharmed. Parts of the fences around the creek had been smashed and lay in heaps by the shore, and Fado's porch was no more than firewood. Near the village centre laid a large carcass; sniffing, Link could discern the stench of boar. It was one of the mounts that had been ridden during the invasion. And piled close to it were the smouldering remains of four veiled monsters, their black corpses cracked and smoking in the pit that had been dug to burn them. Link turned away, gulping.

At this time of night only the flickering torches brought movement to the deserted path, but near the creek he made out the voice of a man. His nostrils perceived a strong smell of honey – over the stink of fire and death – along with the distinctive scent of ale. Lots of ale.

''How did it come to this…'' the man sobbed. ''Please, give me back my daughter.'' A limp object smelling of hay and lilac was cradled in his crooked hands. It was a handmade puppet. Beth's puppet.

_Hanch! _Link called, full with relief, but all that came out of him was a loud bark. The lamenting man jumped up and turned around. ''Good Goddesses!'' he screeched, brandishing his own sword and holding it awkwardly in front of himself. ''Don't come nearer, you beast!''

_No, Hanch! It's me! _the big wolf barked, advancing on him while holding his head low. _Don't you recognize me? _The apiarist backed away with a squeak upon Link's approach and swung the blade at his head with all his might. Link's heart skipped a beat and he ducked only at the last moment, barely avoiding the weapon. Hanch's courage left him after the miss, and he ran with flailing arms while screaming like a maniac.

The village was thus roused out of its lethargy, the houses spilling the few inhabitants into the street wielding torches and swords. Link did not dare make another attempt at confronting them, and silently crept from the mob towards Rusl's house. To his confusion, the blacksmith had not joined Mayor Bo and his group despite being by far the most skilled swordsman. As he approached his childhood home, he saw light behind the linen curtains and heard a soft female voice speak admonishingly to another. He jumped as the door swung open, revealing a very weary looking Rusl with his sword in hand.

''No, Uli. What if the children have returned? Let me do one more search, please.''

''And what if we are being attacked again?''

Link quickly backed into the shadows and took in his surrogate father's battered and bloody appearance with a horrified gasp.

''Honey, I promise I will be careful,'' the smith said. ''I know my limits.''

Link had never seen his father figure this hurt. The few burns or the occasional purple finger a blacksmith called his occupational hazard paled in comparison to the many bandages that had been wrapped around the man's right leg, head, and torso. Some of them were soaked with blood. He was still in the clothes he had worn for Link's departure, their meticulous weaving torn and stained red and brown. On his back, the weapon he had made for the Ceremony of Peace still rested in its ornate scabbard and rang angrily as he pulled it out. Its polished steel sent flashes onto Link's grey fur.

Deciding that his father figure was the likeliest of the Ordonians to recognize him, he carefully stepped into the light of the torch Rusl was holding. Yet the moment the brightness fell on his body, Uli screamed and grabbed her husband's arms to pull him backwards. The smith turned around with a yell.

Link tried to lower his head, showing submission, and began whimpering softly all while gazing deeply into the smith's eyes. Rusl halted, the sword poised in mid-air defensively, widened eyes watching the wolf. His hesitation made Link hopeful, and he slowly began to approach his surrogate parents. Uli held on to her husband's arms, trembling and wheezing.

Then, roars and screams rose from the village path below. Link turned in fright and saw the mayor and his men race towards the house. Rusl's weapon flashed in the torchlight and soared towards Link's head, meeting his temple. The searing pain of the slice rendered him briefly blind, drops of blood stung in his eyes.

''Get inside, Uli!'' Rusl shouted and hobbled towards Link, the sword raised for a new blow. Link thought better about trying to mutely reason with him, and made a bolt for dear life.

The collapsed roof of Epona's destroyed stable gave him shelter. He cowered in the darkness, shivering, covered in dust and mud, while he watched the men he had once shared his life with scout the trees and bushes in search of him. Their calls echoed in his ears, feet that broke through the coppice approached and retreated, torches sent sparks into the night sky and more than once covered his twitching fur with light. But the shadows hid him well, and soon Ordon's men shuffled back to the village murmuring and disappointed, leaving the woods once more in deep blackness.

It was only after a very long time that Link stopped trembling. The smells that the villagers had left behind were still imprinted on the ground and hung in the air like a mist. He could discern Hanch's ale, Jaggle's sawdust, Moe's tobacco, Mayor Bo's cheesy feet. But it was Rusl's blood that haunted him the most; the metallic smell of open flesh wounds the smith had left behind hovered everywhere, tree trunks he had leaned against to catch his breath were stained red and reeked of pain and fear. Link had never known that smells could drive someone mad, but he felt close to losing his mind if he did not get rid of them soon.

He shook his head and ran a paw over the stinging cut Rusl had given him. His fur had begun to soak with blood but worked to stop the flow. There was not much he could do in his state, and so he wriggled his way out of his hiding place and started down the road into the forest. Blissfully the smells of undergrowth, rotting leaves, and broken wood took over his senses. He had not noticed it before, but his vision was astonishingly bright and clear despite the darkness of the night. Gazing around he could see his beloved forest heavily damaged; boughs and branches, early flower buds, and freshly grown leaves littered the soil in masses. He stopped momentarily as he saw a small shape lie on the ground next to a tree trunk, and upon approaching it he saw it was a dead bird, impaled with an arrow much too big for it. The projectile had struck all but the tail of the poor creature, the rest had been smashed to a pulp by the arrowhead.

As he looked at the slaughtered bird he felt a powerful anger well up within him. What right did those monsters have to invade his forest and massacre its inhabitants? Why did this small fellow have to die? If they killed a bird just because it gave them pleasure, what would they do to children? What would they do to a girl of fifteen? He had seen all of his friends being taken, and he had failed to bring them back.

It was then that Link's sadness finally overtook him. Crouching before the bird carcass he rolled himself to a ball, his paws laid over his glossy snout. The wolf did not allow him to shed tears, his sobs instead turning to soft whimpers in his beastly throat. The forest was quiet and the sky was cloudy; it looked like an ordinary spring night, and yet, nothing was as it had once been.

The children were gone. Their parents maddened with grief. The others haunted by fear. His own father gravely injured.

And him trapped in the body of a monster.

It was the arising of yet another scent that brought him to his feet. Like embers slowly consuming tinder after the spark had found its mark, so did the smell roll over the earth and made his every hair stand on end. Its pungency reminded him of burnt hair, sweet yet sour and acrid, lingering like the imprint of a skunk. And it was coming from Ordona's spring.

He did not need to know the origin of the smell to know it bore trouble. His strong legs carried him swiftly to the holiest place in the Ordonian region where, for centuries, its inhabitants had brought their children to be blessed, their sick to be healed, their worries to be erased, and where Rusl had once found the tiny bundle containing his adoptive son.

As Link's paws made contact with the snow white sand of the basin, he was frozen in place with terror. The creature that slunk towards the carven stone monoliths was so black it absorbed the light of the water and looked, even to Link's eyes, like a distorted, faintly human-shaped hole. Its long fingers and bony feet sank into the sand with every lumbering step it took.

It was the same creature that had pulled him into the wall of blackness. The very same monster that had turned him into a wolf. Link's blood seemed to freeze. As if feeling his prolonged stare, the demon turned its grotesque, mask-like face to him. His legs began to tremble.

One of the creature's claws slowly lifted, and a sudden screech resounded from the spring. Link watched on, paralysed, how a drop collided with the water and made its glittering surface glow like golden fire. The light assembled to a bulky mass, more drops now assembled by thousands as if to form a body, but another swish of the black monster's hand drew a new scream from the spring, high-pitched and racked with pain, that froze Link to his very core.

''Move, you stupid wolf! Attack it!''

Midna's shout startled him out of his stupor, and without even knowing what he was doing he jumped as high as he could, aiming for the monster's nape. Teeth bared and roaring, Link crashed into the monster and sent it tumbling to the water. It growled at him as it struggled to a stand, but Link was quicker. With another growl he ran around it, crouched deep, and propelled himself right at the beast's exposed throat. A gurgle escaped his thrashing opponent, one of its claws collided with Link's injured temple and wrapped around his snout in an attempt to pull him off of it. Link's strong jaw did not let go even as the monster wrenched the wolf as well as the inside of its own throat away. Its wretched body fell, shaking with spasms and tainting the holy spring water with its black blood.

Link shook his head in disgust and spat out the fleshy lump still clenched in his maw. He watched it slowly sink into the knee-deep water and dissolving into small black speckles. The body of the black monster began disappearing in a similar fashion. Only the thick cloud of blood showed where it had lain.

Sighing, Link turned to where he had heard Midna's voice shout out to him, and saw his companion hovering beneath a tree by the bank, arms folded and scowling. As she saw him gazing at her, she lifted her hand and pointed at the spring.

It was then that a voice rang out behind him. ''I thank you, Blue-Eyed Beast, for having saved this land from Twilight.''

It was nothing he had ever heard before; he was unsure if he could really call it a voice. It was more a rustling, a singing, a chirping, or could it truly be… bleating? Yet it sounded so crystal clear and soft that, when he turned around, he instantly knew why he took its voice as the call of one of his Ordon goats.

For in front of him hovered a massive being, shining golden like the rising sun on an early summer day yet glistening like the purest gem of silver. It bore a shape he knew all too well, a bulky body, long ears, an excessive tail and, towering over its head, a circular horn bearing in its centre the brightest orb of light that he had ever seen that radiated like a little sun itself.

The guardian spirit of his homeland, Ordona, in the form of a golden goat, hovered mere feet in front of him.

''O brave youth, you who was transformed by the power of shadow…'' she said, her voice humming like the wind blowing over the southern fields. The tone of her words made him feel at ease instantly, all those regrets and fears he had lived since Ordon was attacked dissipating to nothingness.

''I am one of the four light spirits that protect Hyrule at the behest of the Goddesses. With the power I wield, I bring life and hope to the plains and forests you call home.''

If Link could have smiled, he would have worn the happiest of all. Yet it would have faded at her next words. ''But that power resides no longer with my brethren, who have been robbed of their light by very beast you slew.''

The spirit lowered her head, and a single tear slid down her glowing cheek. ''The entire kingdom has been reduced to a netherworld ruled by the cursed powers of Darkness, and the blight will not stop with Hyrule. Before long, the entire world of Light will fall into the hands of the king who rules the Twilight.''

Link hung his head, his tail retreating between his hind legs.

''However…'' Ordona inclined her head at him, and Link looked up. ''There is still hope walking my forest paths. You, brave youth, have been given a sacred power blessed by the Goddesses. While the helpless people of Hyrule wander about this darkness as groping spirits, a feral beast has awakened within you that guides you through the blackness with vision unclouded.''

_What? _Link thought. This form he had taken on had been a gift from the Goddesses? The very creators of the world whose lore had swept through Hyrule for centuries bringing wisdom and hope to its people?

Ordona's eyes bore deeply into his. ''A soul transformed by the powers of shadow cannot recover its original form. Unless…'' She paused while fixing Link intently. ''Unless you were to return to where you were first transformed, and restore the light spirit with its lost light. There, by the power of my revived brother, you shall find the means to regain your other state of being.''

Link's heart leaped. So there was a way to become himself once again? He would at last be able to enter Ordon without being taken for a monster. He would be able to depart in search of the missing children and bring them home. Oh, just the thought of enjoying the touch of his own hands, of tracing the curves of his face, felt like a wonderful dream. Even his Hylian ears would be much welcomed. But…

_Why me? _his rational mind screamed. _Why would the Goddesses give me this form?_

Ordona blinked once. ''You have not yet discovered the true extent of your powers,'' she said mysteriously, cocking her head. ''Go to the light spirit Faron, and revive his forest. Farewell, o brave youth…''

_Wait! _hebarked. _What powers? _But the light in front of him was slowly fading back into the spring. Helplessly he watched the spirit disappear, the precious Light orb protected by her horn dissipating into tiny, glowing drops that returned to the water and gave it its characteristic shine. The spring fell asleep once more and looked as if nothing had ever happened.

''Well well, wasn't that interesting.''

Midna's hovering form approached him from the side. ''So there is a way to return you to normal. How nice of the spirit to spill the beans so conveniently, huh?''

Link nodded and turned from her, already making his way down the path.

''So what now, wolf? You'll restore the light spirit, get back your human form, and search for your friends, is that it?''

Her shadowy form suddenly appeared before him, and he flinched back. ''That's all nice and good, but I don't see what's in it for little Midna. We had a deal, remember? You're to do as I say, and sadly my plans slightly diverge from yours.''

Link began to growl at her. The audacity! Just because she had freed him from that cell did she think she could order him around? As far as he was concerned, their time together was over. Snorting, he passed by her and ran along the path. It took him not long to reach the ominous black wall towering at the junction to the Southern Road, and the moment it loomed into view, Link's tail betrayed his fear by tucking itself between his legs. He shot the appendage a dark look; as useful was it was in keeping his balance, he was slowly growing tired of it trailing behind him and telling the entire world how he was feeling.

He approached the glowing marks slowly appearing over the surface and closed his eyes, waiting for the wall to pull him in. But nothing happened.

Frowning, he sniffed the ground and even poked his nose into the wall, but as much as he pushed he could not pass it. Many minutes ticked by in which he became increasingly more desperate, until he plummeted to the ground with his head on his paws, musing.

''Saved the world yet?''

Angrily, Link bolted up and soared towards the imp who was hovering behind him, arms folded. He growled and barked at her and was half glad she could not understand him; he himself had not known such profane word-juggling was in his might.

Her raised palm stopped him. ''I've had about enough of you, dog,'' she grunted. ''Don't you remember what happened before transforming into that flee-infested heap of fur? Last time you entered the Twilight, it was because a shadow beast pulled you in. You just met it, back at the spring, and you killed it. In other words, you've killed the one thing that could have enabled you to enter Faron Woods and free the light spirit. Good job!''

As she spoke Link felt the icy shower of disappointment overcome him. That demon she had called a shadow beast must have been behind the wall for a reason, possibly for pulling those dreadful monsters and the kidnapped children into the Twilight. Link had had the bad luck of standing right where the beast still lingered and which had pulled him in thinking he was another monster demanding entrance.

Midna saw his countenance change and sneered. ''If you want to go that way, you need the cooperation of someone from the Twilight Realm. Someone like me. So you really have no choice but to do as I say.''

With a painful sting, Link realized that she had won once again. Growling, he glared at Midna but nodded reluctantly. The imp grinned from ear to ear before drifting towards the droning wall of shadow. Her form flew right into it as if entering a body of water, and the wall oscillated softly from the impact. Link remained still, waiting, but regretted it a moment later. From behind the curtain of Twilight appeared a massive orange hand, scooped him up and tore him off of his feet. He felt the cold embrace of the wall engulfing him, the fluttering of the air that intensified upon being released from Midna's grasp. Small black speckles immediately began flocking around him.

''Back in the Twilight at last,'' Midna called out, and Link turned with a yelp to find her perched on top of his back.

_You pestering vermin, I am not a horse! _Link barked at her. But the Twili was gleefully stretching and flexing her freshly formed black fingers and toes before turning around and lounging comfortably against him. ''It's fine, you can thank little Midna when you have a mouth that can talk. I believe we should better be going now. You know the way to the spring, don't you?''

Link contented himself with a low growl and silently bore the humiliation of being used as a mount once again. Thankfully, he would not have to endure it for much longer, for now he knew how to find his true form again. Looking down at his body thoughtfully, contemplating his strong legs, he wondered how long it would take to reach the spring if he ran all the way…

''Eeh!'' Midna yelled the moment he bolted off, her tiny fingers clinging to his fur. He did not mind the slight pain issuing from her tight grip but instead focused on the sheer speed his legs allowed him to reach. The wind howled around his ears and flapped at his tongue that he let dangling while feeling his body heat up. The forest around them was now nothing but a swirling mass of dark green swishing past him. Had he been human, he would have howled with delight. He had never run this fast in his entire life, and it felt as if his legs would carry him to the end of the world and beyond.

But the sweetest pleasure exceeded even the quad of powerful legs he now possessed; every time he lost a little speed and jumped to regain it, Midna gave a frightened hiccup and tightened her grip. What would he have given to see the look on her face.

0

Either she was downright stubborn or too proud to admit that her buttocks were awfully sore when Link and his little companion arrived at the spring an hour later and she hopped off a little stiffly. He glanced at her with an inward sneer while she stepped awkwardly to the water, visibly trying to hold herself straight. She soon gave up and instead hovered into the air, turning a sulking eye to the amused wolf.

''Now come on, we haven't got all day. This stupid spirit needs your help.''

As if on cue, Link became aware of an odd sound coming from the dark waters. Like crystal flutes playing completely wrong among themselves, Faron's lamentation made Link almost feel the pain it caused the spirit to be engulfed in shadows, robbed of its essence. The once fair coloured, silver water had taken on a sickly shade of orange, the ever-present black speckles floating among the few remaining sparks of light that still hovered like lone fireflies above the surface.

''Please… come to my spring… o brave youth…'' it whispered feebly, and Link carefully stepped into the tainted water. He had seen the sheer magnificence that Ordona had portrayed, and that the Twilight – which was not affecting him very much at all – could maul a spirit so badly it became a mere breath of its former existence, pained him nearly as much as thinking of his kidnapped friends. He was definitely not the only one who had suffered injustice at the hands of the Twilight invasion.

''I am… Faron… I preside over these… woods. Blue-Eyed Beast… Seek my lost light… and store it in… this vessel.''

The sparks flying dazedly about slowly moved together, amassing around an empty shrub of energy where they appended like golden grapes to form a loose bunch. Link watched how it sank towards him, and suddenly grew panicked. He looked around, flexed his paws, and even tried to lift himself on his hind legs to catch it. He was just debating whether it would be damaged if he held it between his teeth when Midna's small body pressed against him.

''Oh, move over, you stupid beast,'' she grumbled, shoving him aside and extending her hands towards the floating grapes that settled within her black and turquoise fingers.

''My Light… was stolen by… insect-like creatures… You must find them…'' Faron murmured quietly. ''The form you took on… is the key to locating them… Use your body… Do not deny your abilities… and bring back my light…''

It relapsed to silence, and said no more. Link nodded to the remaining sparks and cast a glance at Midna who was holding the vessel in one hand while cupping her chin with the other.

''Well, what are you waiting for, wolf? The light won't come to us on its own, we'll have to search for it. Insects it said, eh?''

Link frowned thoughtfully while scanning the area around him. What kind of insect was he looking for? Insects were everywhere, in the soil, on trees, in the foliage, in houses, and under rock. How would he possibly find the right ones? Nonetheless he huffed out resolutely and trotted back into the dense forest northward. If he just continued up the Southern Road, perhaps a certain type of insect he had never seen before would manifest itself somewhere.

The smells had once again changed now that the forest was covered in Twilight. Every scent seemed somewhat dulled and underlined with a note of smoke as if the foreign atmosphere had burned them. The earth was devoid of its moist aroma and seemed dry and scorched. Leaves smelled of kindling, branches of coal. Yet their original perfumes were still there.

The more he strained his senses and sniffed the soil, however, the more difficult it became for him to see properly. It was not the dim, shimmering light that affected his vision, but more the myriad of different smells he picked up which, strangely, took on a very specific colour for each of them. There was mostly green and brown which he associated with the different leaves, bushes, rocks, and twigs littering the forest path, but when he looked closely he could discern various shades of green, hues glowing brighter, scents that glistened slightly, and even some that stuck out painfully and stung his eyes.

''Hey! Eyes front!'' Midna suddenly yelled. His concentration slipped out of his grasp, instantly clearing his vision to the black speckles and orange shine around him. She was pointing at something moving in mid-air along the forest path. It looked like a glowing orb of white fire shaded with green that stood out painfully from the orange bloom of Twilight. Link lifted his bushy brows and carefully walked nearer, prepared for an unexpected attack or reaction. But as he inspected it closer with eyes formed to slits, a shimmering outline appeared that faded again as Midna spoke.

''Well well, and what are you doing in these parts, all by yourself? It's dangerous to go alone, with all those monsters around. You could become one of them, hehehe.''

Link looked back at her with a questioning look, and she sneered at him. ''I thought you'd be able to see it whole, with your senses so sharp and pronounced. Look closely, and you'll know what this is.''

He concentrated on the flying ball, trying to intensify the faint outline he could already make out. It flickered like a dying flame in the spray of a waterfall, always slipping out of his vision as it floated away from him. Deciding to walk alongside it while staring at it with all his might, Link strained his senses once more, and suddenly his eyes widened.

The orb, pulsating like life itself, was the very centre of a small, stubby man. Wrapped in an old travelling cloak, with a leather bag around his shoulder and a net with full glass-bottles in the right hand, he was trudging along the dry forest path with his hood draped over his head. A faint mist of yellow wafted around him that Link recognized immediately: the smell of lantern oil. Link took two steps away from him and was briefly stiff with surprise, his mind piecing together the puzzle and realizing just what was in front of him.

It was the spirit of this man trapped in Twilight, one of the very spectres the princess had spoken about. All citizens of Hyrule and beyond had been transformed into those sad beings, and if he recalled her mournful tale then those unlucky souls were not even aware of the fact that they were now – bereaved of their light just like the spirits – a mere breath of a human being.

''You seem to know what it is now, don't you?'' Midna said and instantly broke through his focus. He cast her an angry look before setting his eyes back on the spirit, ready to crouch low and make another try at looking harmless.

Strangely, the reappearing spectre did not show any sign of having heard her. The man just walked by and did not even bother to look at them. Out of sheer confusion, Link stepped right in front of him and barked quietly to draw his attention. Yet the man promptly walked through him, briefly dissipating into white fog before reassembling behind the shocked wolf.

Midna only snickered. ''Well, I guess you understand, don't you? Those spirits can't see you. You're invisible to them, not worth their attention. Like a spectre on your own, wandering this transformed land with no possible goal or ambition. Oh no, that's not true!'' She clapped a hand on top of his head. ''We're here to find those shadow insects, remember? So quit dawdling with thin air that doesn't give a thought about you and get a move on!''

As they were trotting their way north in the hopes of stumbling across a curious insect, Link's mind kept reverting back to the little man he had seen walking up the Southern Road. What was his name? What was he doing there all alone? And what was in those bottles he was carrying? From his cloak he knew the traveller came from the river village of Bando, a hamlet so obsessed with fish that it even included the curved shape in its fashion in form of tablet-woven ribbons sewn onto the hems of their garbs. However, those of the man's cloak had been worn, dirty, and the once bright colours faded as if the garb had suffered the same fate as its bearer.

The content of his bottles had smelled and looked like lantern oil, and slowly the man's story became clearer. He had probably bought his oil from the chu cavern not far away where a little man named Coro and his pet bird made fortune. Yellow chus were goo-like creatures shaped like slugs but the size of a dog and which could be bred in the unlikeliest of ways: by taking a long sabre and cutting them in half. Link had never understood how this worked and how the creatures survived, but they did, and once large enough they were tossed into a press and mashed until nothing but juice was left. Juice that all people of the southern provinces used as lantern oil.

Coro was a friendly little man with hair as thick as a bush and shaped like a big brown ball atop his head where his pet bird Trill lived. The first time Link had seen him, aged four, he had been greatly amused to see an actual nest of twigs and hay with three little white eggs inside woven into the man's hair, and the blue bird cackling and screeching at any customer visiting their cavern that dared to come nearer. They had their home among the trees, a shabby little shack in a reclusive area of Faron not too close to the main road; Coro considered himself a hermit.

If a lone man had to travel from Bando all the way to Coro's in order to get lantern oil, then something was not right. The pile dwelling village was sustained by the only merchant vessel that sailed through Faron province, the _Red Lion_, and Coro regularly drove his large oil vat to the harbour store house to be sold. Something must have happened to the ship, Link thought.

It was no use. In his current form Link had no means to help or even speak to these spirits, as Midna had so eloquently pointed out. He was neither part of the Light World, nor fully part of the Twilight, and only a strange blessing prevented him from turning into a spirit. More and more questions tumbled in his mind the more he tried to find answers until he forced himself to ignore them. All he knew was how to bring the light back to Faron Woods. Once the Twilight was gone, the Bando man would return to life, and Link's own Hylian body would have hands to work properly and a mouth to ask all the questions he wanted.

The only truly useful tool he had at his disposal now was his powerful nose. The more he concentrated, the more colours appeared drifting over the path, some blue, some brown, most of them green, and a few stood out like rays of sunlight. There was a distinctive orange fragrance that carried an array of different smells – old stones, cobwebs, sewer, wet dog – that he traced back to its owner perched on top of him and giving him a confused scowl. He turned back and instead followed a bright pink cloud crossing the path before heading into the woods.

This scent was different, and fresh. Whatever had left it must still be close by. Link began to trot through the coppice, his nose rummaging the earth to keep track of the pink trail giving off that musty, oily smell. It was so close that he would see the pink cloud forming in the distance and swirling from a pair of peculiar fans that made the air vibrate. He approached it further.

''What the–'' came Midna's yell before Link was suddenly struck by a searing bolt and forced to back into a bush. His nose stung from where it had been hit, his vision clearing to make the colourful trails vanish.

A low buzzing rang in his ears the moment the creature appeared, peeling leaves off its silvery body with forked claws, its wings fluttering to make it drift into the air. A pair of glowing green eyes bore into Link's as the six-legged beetle hovered in front of him. The insect, glowing white in the dark of Twilight from the stolen light inside, was nearly as large as a cat, and crimson bolts of energy were still sizzling around it. Undoubtedly the cause of Link's burning snout.

''Err, attack it, I guess?'' Midna said, and Link growled at her. Not helpful. But no better thought manifested itself to him, so after a moment of indecision he pounced at the insect. His teeth collided with the outer shell and closed upon it, and the creature let out an ear-piercing shriek while wriggling in Link's maw, its wings still buzzing in a desperate try to get free. The wolf only bit harder, causing the bug's shell to crack and resulting in the monster to altogether explode in a rain of cartilage, goo, wing membrane, and hairy legs.

''Oh, sweet golden Goddesses…'' Midna moaned and floated away, leaving Link shake off and spit out the goo by himself. As he wiped the filth away with the aid of his paw, however, he caught sight of something that instantly brought joy back to him.

Above the wretched corpse of the mutilated insect hovered a fiercely shining ball of light. Its colour was of a piercing blue so bright it illuminated the entire area, and smaller drops of silver flocked around it to accompany its slow flight towards Link's amazed eyes. The moment Link realized it was gently headed towards him, he grew panicked again, desperately barking at Midna to help him. The imp just sighed while holding the vessel towards the orb. As it poured into one of the empty compartments, it brushed against Midna's black hand. Link was startled by her giving a sudden hiss of pain and pulling her hand away as if she had been burnt. He looked at her with instinctive worry. The Twili, however, only grumbled and acted as if nothing had happened.

''Quit dawdling, there are still many to find,'' she spat, plummeting onto his back brusquely.

Biting back a growl, he let her sit on him without complaint. In truth, Link was beginning to realize that he needed her more than he wanted to admit. She had to be his arms and hands to do what his paws could not. And a small part of him was glad to have her company, be it as sarcastic and bad-tempered as a brat with mood swings.

From the insect carcass rose the same dank smell taking on its bright pink hue. He looked around and was delighted to find many more trails departing from the path into the wilderness. It was ironic, he thought, that the wolf's sensible nose would prove to be the very part of his curse that would lift it. Full with hope he darted off after the next insect, ignoring Midna's faint moan and tightening grip. If she wished to ride on him, she'd have to pass through this.

0

''Come one, faster! There's just one left,'' Midna called, pouncing up and down on Link's back while he trudged along the path, heckling and wheezing.

For hours they had chased after the shadow insects and collected drop after drop of the stolen light, and Link had finally reached his limits. He had galloped through the throng of trees following one lone trail of bright pink after the other without stopping longer than a few minutes for a breather. His fur had become sticky with shadow insect goo, and a vile taste had settled on his lolling tongue. He was thirsty, hungry, and fed up with the seemingly never-ending enthusiasm of his eccentric Twili companion.

''Hurry up now, we're almost there. I can feel it!'' Flying up into the air with the precious vessel in her hands, she left Link with at least a little less weight to carry. He was unsure of where they were, but judging by the ever denser growing population of willows and the damp smell in the air, they were not far from Faron River.

''That's a lot of smoke over there,'' Midna called from above, and Link grew worried.

It took not long for the first torches to be made out through the trees along with the dry, overwhelming stench of a large fire. Aghast, he summoned up the last of his strength to sprint the remaining few yards to the shore.

They had travelled all the way to Bando where a blazing fire had gripped one of the houses at the entrance of town. Dozens of the bright green lights danced around it as if celebrating the massive bonfire, but as he strained his senses he uncovered the terrified villagers screaming orders and emptying buckets of water onto the wooden walls of the building. Luckily this house was built on the shore instead of on the water's surface next to the condensed pole houses, so their buckets could rain on the crumpling building from all sides.

As Link approached the screaming spirits and heard their voices like through a distant, echoing dream. The chaos around the burning house took on an entirely new level of horror as soon as he saw something move inside the wall of flames.

It was completely black, standing out of the raging fire like an ink spot of darkness on a white page. Its long filigree arms were thrashing about furiously as if trying to catch one of the helpless spirits running around it. Link's jaw was hanging loose while he watched the terrifying scene, and recognized the monster only as he looked twice.

It was another shadow beast almost identical to the demon who had attempted to steal Ordona's light. Its arms whipped about breaking through wooden beams and shingles all while a steady, piercing scream emerged from its throat. Its gyrations caused the south wall of the building to crumple and collapse, barely missing a young woman who was busied in a bucket line.

Suddenly, the beast's oversized hand reached for her and wrenched her off of the ground, drowning her in the flames. Link roared the moment she disappeared and felt his legs propel him forward before he could stop himself.

''No! Come back, you stupid wolf!'' he heard Midna's yell behind him, but he ignored her. He ran passed the two houses separating him from the burning one, built up tension in his hind legs and jumped snout first into the fire. The smoke instantly rendered him blind, forcing him to a crouch. He yelped the moment a sudden, cold rush collided with his back.

He turned around and saw an old man with a bucket still in throwing position. At first he thought the man had doused Link on purpose to protect him from the flames, but the Bandonian had his terrified eyes locked on the roaring flames, and Link remembered that the spirits could not see him. He had caught the water out of pure luck – or the Goddesses were keeping a watchful eye on him.

''Sitha!'' the elder shrieked at the highest of his crackling voice and attempted to jump into the building before being stopped by another man.

''Don't, Donan!'' the man cried and waved more men to his aid to hold the elder who had now crumpled to the grass in a miserable heap, crying out in lament. In the burning house, Sitha's screams were muffled by the ear-splitting noise of the fire and the shadow beast's shrieks.

Dripping wet, Link gathered up all his courage and jumped as high as he could, colliding with the monster's left upper arm. It roared out more in surprise than pain and toppled over, plunging into the fire with the shrieking woman still in its claws. Link closed his eyes and began biting and tearing at it with all the savagery he could muster. Hungry flames licked at his paws and belly, smoke clouded his vision and choked the breath out of him. His teeth and chest were soon tainted black with blood. The shadow beast thrashed and clawed at him and would have managed to wrench the wolf off had it not been for the burning walls obstructing it.

Finally the limb got off with another maddened shriek from the monster. Link made sure the wriggling spirit of the woman was still in its clutch before he dragged her together with the arm out of the fire. In his desperate try to manoeuvre the woman through the least dangerous parts, he did not watch where he went. The moment his hind paw touched the piece of blazing timber, a sickening hiss was heard along with his shocked wail of pain.

He tumbled the last few steps out of the fire and let go of the bleeding arm. Rolling on the ground he yelped in agony, trying to lick at his burned paw all while recoiling from the pain that flared as he touched it. Behind him, the shadow beast's roar rose into the sky before the flames smouldered the last of its violated life out of it. It was also the last thing Link heard before a wave of dizziness blurred his vision. The thumping pain in his left hind paw faded to a numb pulsing before his eyes finally closed. He allowed himself to cherish the overwhelming tiredness that forced a dreamless sleep upon him, and he sent a silent apology to Midna, to the children, to Ilia, to Faron.

They would all just have to wait a little longer.

000


End file.
